TRG
by TheMipstaz
Summary: Kiba Inuzuka is just a normal 15 year-old kid…who's already committed his first murder…and gotten recruited into a street gang…and then had a forbidden affair with a member of a rival gang. Yup, just your ordinary 15 year-old kid. Rated M for swearing, smut, violence, etc. Gangster AU
1. Drakes

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or it's characters. But I do own Hashimoto…yeah, he's mine.**

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_Hide,_ he thought frantically as building after building flew past him. _No, run. Run and just don't stop, _he decided as he took a sharp turn and raced down a dark alleyway, hardly noticing that the nice condos and apartments around him had morphed into old and rundown warehouses.

Suddenly shouts and loud barking sounded at the far end of the alley. "Shit," he swore and wheeled around to go back the way he'd come, but he heard more shouts from that direction too.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered before slipping into a narrow gap between two of the buildings that made up his small alley. Quickly escaping the confines of his newly made shortcut, the boy burst out into a clearing among the warehouses, pausing to catch his breath.

"Oh fuck," he breathed, for surrounding him in a loose semicircle were at least 20 armed officers. Whipping around to retreat through the same crevice, the boy saw a man blocking the other end and aiming a gun at the teen's head.

_Fuck, I'm in deep shit now. _

Turning to face the impressive force before him, the boy plastered on his most devious, convincing smirk and sauntered forward, casually saying, "C'mon, I expected more from you guys. Seriously, over 20 men to catch a 15 year-old boy? That's just disappointing, Hashimoto."

His last words were directed at the front and foremost man, who was evidently the leader of the squad. Captain Hashimoto pointed the barrel of his gun at the boy's face and cooly replied, "Take one more step and you won't have to be disappointed anymore–because you'll be dead."

"Hmm, tempting, but no thanks," the boy grinned, completely unruffled.

Hashimoto's face contorted as he sneered, "I didn't think so. Now don't move, Inuzuka Kiba, and maybe your death will be quick and painless."

_'Quick and painless' my ass, _Kiba thought grimly, but just laughed, flashing fang-like teeth. "Yeah, _right_, and maybe you'll give me a nice funeral too."

"You never know," Hashimoto leered as his men began to close in on Kiba.

Backing up until he was pressed against the wall, Kiba bared his teeth, slid a pair of twin knives from the pockets of his jeans, and snarled, "Come and get some, fucktards." Lunging forward, Kiba engaged a man in the front line–dispatching him with a quick cut to the throat–before instantly hitting the dirt as 3 shots rang out. Two other men dropped.

"Idiots," Kiba muttered as the two bodies–on opposite sides of the crescent-shaped formation, of course–fell. "Friendly fire's a bitch, huh?"

Rolling back onto his feet, Kiba rushed at the line again, in an attempt to escape the deadly semicircle. Slashing with his knives, he managed to split their ranks and disable 3 more men–but at a hefty price. Kiba let out a cry of pain when the ball of lead buried itself in his shoulder, causing it to gush blood and quickly soak the sleeve and side of his shirt.

Hashimoto smirked.

While the knife from his injured arm tumbled to the ground, Kiba threw his remaining dagger, killing another man with lethal accuracy. But soon the extreme loss of blood forced Kiba into a kneeling position as his other hand desperately tried to staunch the bleeding. The pool of red spread around Kiba as he tilted his head back to glare at Hashimoto, who was slowly walking towards him.

Through his blurring vision, Kiba just managed to make out the victorious smirk of the captain. _So this is how it ends, huh? That sucks…_

"Any last words?" Hashimoto asked, pointing his handgun straight at Kiba's face. A bead of sweat silently slid down the teen's face.

"Yeah."

The captain waited expectantly.

A wolfish smile crept on the 15 year-old's face. "Fuck. You."

Hashimoto's icy green eyes narrowed; he was not amused. The finger on the trigger tightened and–bang!

The gun flew from the Hashimoto's grip as he was flung to the side from the force of the bullet that had just been introduced to his brain. Kiba flinched as the warm blood splattered on him–not for the first time in his life.

All remaining 14 of Hashimoto's men froze and stared in shock at the lifeless corpse of their captain–now making a bloody mess on the ground at Kiba's feet. But Kiba wasn't stupid; instead of looking at the obviously dead body, he turned his gaze upwards to where he thought the shot came from.

His efforts were rewarded when he saw 3 dark figures silhouetted against the sky on the roof of one of the warehouses: 2 figures crouching on either side of the one standing–who appeared to be holding the gun responsible for Hashimoto's unexpected death.

In one deft movement, all three people leapt from the low roof onto the ground in front of Kiba and faced the remaining men. The one in the middle–a boy with the top half of his shoulder-length black hair pulled back into a half-ponytail and who looked about the same age as Kiba–idly twirled the gun around in his hand and, in a rather bored voice, drawled, "Fuckers like you are so troublesome."

"Oh cut the bored crap, Shikamaru," said the blonde girl on Shikamaru's right. Hands on hips, she cocked one out and prettily told the onlooking men, "Sorry about him. But seriously, if ya don't get out of our fucking way, we're gonna **tune ya up (1)** real good. So you should go, like, now." Pulling a pistol from the confines of the thin bra under her short-cropped cardigan–the only thing stopping her overabundance of cleavage from spilling out, and doing a poor job of it–the slut of a blond winked.

The third person, a heavyset boy with unusual spiraling tattoos on either of his cheeks, chuckled darkly and pulled out a revolver of his own, aiming it at the opposing men just as Shikamaru and the blond girl had.

Kiba, a silent observer of all of this, was impressed by how calm the three of them were despite being outnumbered nearly 5 to 1. _But, why're they helping me? I don't even know who they are. _

Hashimoto's squad all looked at one another and nodded. Shikamaru barely had time to sigh, "How troublesome," before he and his two comrades threw themselves to the ground as shots rang out. After the first round, those who wielded knives or batons instead of guns rushed to strike before the three could get up.

That was their first mistake. Shikamaru shot down all those who approached him while the blond girl smashed her gun through the skull, or any body part really, of any who came within range. While those two were protecting him, the heavyset boy quickly took out the men who had guns.

Soon, a total of 20 bodies lay motionless in the clearing.

"Good shot, Choji," commented Shikamaru as he removed his hightops–now stained red–from the growing pool of blood with a look of great disdain on is face. He sulkily shoved his hands

"Thanks," replied the other boy, "but did ya see Ino beat the shit out of them other guys?" Choji laughed. "What dickheads."

The blond, Ino, grinned and replaced her pistol in her bra. "Got that right."

"Now," Shikamaru turned to Kiba, who was now standing and clutching his injured shoulder, "what's a matter wi'you? No 'thank you'?"

Bristling at the superiority in the other boy's voice, Kiba growled and spat out, "Thanks."

Ino laughed and flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder. "Ooh, feisty I see. That's good, you'll need to be if you wanna survive with us."

Warily, Kiba said, "Whaddaya mean?"

"What, you think we saved yo ass back there just 'cause?" asked Shikamaru, raising one eyebrow. "We did it 'cause we saw somethin' in you 'n thought you might be able t'handle it. You're the first in a while, ya know. Most people we see 'round here who don't belong to a gang already are retarded–well, by our standards. And they're not usually **dippin' (2)** from a crapload of cops either." His mouth twitched into a small smile.

"Well, murder isn't exactly smiled upon in Tohoku," Kiba pointed out wryly.

Shikamaru nodded his approval. "Hmm, only 15 and you've already had your first kill. That's impressive for someone who's not one of us. I think you'll fit in just fine."

"I dunno, Shikamaru," warned Ino. "Who knows what Tsunade'll think?"

"Eh, who the hell cares 'bout Tsunade," Choji scoffed. "S'not like anyone listens to that bitch anyways."

"Retard!" snapped Ino, punching him in the gut. "She's our **Head Boss (3)**. Don'tchu go talkin' 'bout her like that!"

"Wait, fit into where exactly?" Kiba inquired. "I still don't really get who you guys are or where you're from."

"Into our gang: the Drakes. You're in our territory after all, so it's our right to claim you as one of us–either that or kill you. Your choice," replied Shikamaru nonchalantly as he wiped blood from his gun.

"Oh… well alright then. Do I really have any other choice?" Kiba said. "It's not like I have anywhere else to go anyways."

"I thought you might agree," smirked Shikamaru. "C'mon, it's time to **bring you home (4)**."

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**(1) tune up: to beat up**  
**(2) dipping: running from the cops  
****(3) Head Boss: the leader of a gang  
****(4) bring home: to adopt someone into a gang**

**All "gangster" terms are from clips I watched of the show Ganglands. **

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**AN: Okay, to recap: Kiba's on the run from the cops; Team Asuma belongs to a gang known as the Drakes (aka the Leaf Village); they save Kiba's ass and then recruit him into the Drakes. More Naruto characters will show up later on in different gangs.**

**Reviews please? **


	2. Blue Moons

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Duh. **

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" 'Ey, Kankuro, you up for some taggin'?" called a blond girl lounging one of the many sofas in the Blue Moons' base. The far older man getting straddled by her–with one hand pulling down her mini skirt and the other cupping one breast through her shirt–let out a small sound of annoyance. His pants were already uncomfortably tight.

"Oh get over yourself, Baki," Temari retorted and stood, pulling her skirt up over her thong again and readjusting her crop top shirt. Pulling on her trademark furry overcoat, Temari headed to the exit of large, two-story warehouse that served as her gang, the Blue Moon's, main crib. "You comin'?" She tossed the question over her shoulder, not slowing down at all.

Letting out a sigh, Kankuro got up as well, stretching until he heard his back pop satisfyingly, and followed his hotheaded sister a little more nonchalantly. Adjusting the flat brim hat higher atop his brunette hair, Kankuro paused in the doorway and yelled, "Gaara, you gonna come too?"

The redheaded boy leaning against the far wall, his arms crossed over his chest and black-rimmed eyes wordlessly observing everything, didn't move a muscle. Then, slowly, he straightened up and gazed around the room; all 20 gang members in the room shut up and gave the 16 year-old Head Boss their attention.

"Stay put until we return," Gaara rasped, his quiet voice easily reaching all corners of the noiseless room. Then he left with Kankuro, not waiting for a response.

The two boys quickly caught up with Temari and the three of them began to wander the seemingly-abandoned streets, which were half-shadowed with the dying twilight. Eventually, Kankuro said, "Where we headed, Temari?"

She shrugged. "I was thinking we could check out Post-Katrina. No one's been there for a while, right Gaara?"

The redhead nodded. "I've been keeping our people from that area since we killed the Drakes' last Boss there. It'd be good to remind them that we're sill here."

Kankuro grinned and pulled out his gun, clicking the safety off. "Alright then, let's go."

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Twenty minutes later, the three teens were in the most southern part of the Blue Moons' territory–an area named Post-Katrina, and for a good reason. Nearly all the buildings were either destroyed completely or cracked and crumbling. Bullet holes and bloodstains speckled the area, yet, for some reason, there were few tag marks or pieces of graffiti. Here, the three became more cautious; all talking ceased and they began to walk more slowly, checking corners before they turned them.

Suddenly, "Hey, you hear that?" Kankuro hissed, pressing his back against the wall of a building that was one of the last before it opened up into the central clearing that was the heart of Post-Katrina.

Not far away, they heard a voice: "Okay, Kiba, this place is Katrina's Heart–the main part of Post-Katrina. It's also the border between us and the Blue Moons. C'mere, we're gonna tag a couple walls, let 'em know we were here, then go. Some of the others claim this place is haunted, and it's pretty damn creepy if you ask me."

Kankuro smirked, nodded a signal to Temari and Gaara, and all three stepped out of their hiding place to face the people on the opposite side of the border. "Aww, are the 'lil Drakes 'fraid of the ghost of their last **shot-caller(1)**?" Kankuro sneered.

Shikamaru whirled around but then relaxed when he saw who it was. "Well, if it isn't the Triple Moon Siblings. Haven't seen you guys around, not since Mr. Insomniac over there became Head Boss." At this, Shikamaru jerked his head to indicate Gaara, who was watching with emotionless eyes. "In fact, I'm surprised that you even walk around outside with him anymore. Aren't you worried we'll get our revenge for what you did to us?"

Shikamaru's eyes gleamed a little _too_ knowingly at these words, but Kankuro just curled his lip mockingly. "No 'cause there isn't a single person in the Drakes who could even get close enough to even _touch_ Gaara, let alone kill him."

"Then it's lucky for us that guns are long distance weapons," Shikamaru commented slyly, shooting Kankuro a challenge in the form of a silent look–which was matched.

As the two boys stared each other down, Ino sniggered, "What, not smart enough to think of a comeback?"

Temari snapped her eyes onto the other blond and retorted, "What, not making enough money whoring to buy yourself some real clothes?"

"What did you say?" hissed Ino, narrowing her eyes in fury and placing one hand on her breast–ready to whip out her gun at a moment's notice.

"You heard me," Temari snickered, crossing her arms smugly as she looked Ino up and down. "Then again, with a flat ass like that, I'm not surprised."

Ripping the gun from her bra, Ino aimed it right at an unflinching Temari's face and growled darkly, "Take it back, bitch."

"Make me," Temari's eyes flashed tauntingly. She still hadn't made a single move to get out a weapon. "Slut." Ino's face contorted in rage.

Giving up their glaring contest, Kankuro turned to grin appreciatively at his sister when he heard Shikamaru mutter sometthing to the brunette standing beside him–who had been watching quietly throughout the entire exchange. "This is a _kotoba no takakai_, a battle of words. It's what we'll resort to if something isn't worth wasting bullets over. Girls tend to do it more than guys, but never tell 'em. You'll be dead before you can say 'murder.'"

Having been so absorbed with insulting Shikamaru, it was only now that Kankuro even registered that there were 3, not 2, people on the other side of the border. Taking in the punk rock shirt, studded collar around his neck, shaggy brown hair, and red triangles tattooed on his cheeks, Kankuro noted that the new boy wasn't bad looking–not by any means. _I wonder where they found him, _he thought.

"'Ey, Yami!"

"Yeah?" Shikamaru responded, "Yami" being his nickname.

"Who's the **TRG (2)**?" Kankuro let his gaze wander to the brunette, who met it unblinkingly with unusual animalistic pupils.

"Oh s'is Kiba. He doesn't have a Drake name yet 'cause we just picked 'im up, ya know?" Suddenly, Ino's sob reached Shikamaru's ears. "Hang on a sec," he sighed and left Kiba and Kankuro alone.

Kankuro raised one eyebrow. "Whaddaya mean ya don't have a name yet? He just said Kiba, which means Fang. It seems to suit you well." He grinned at the younger boy on the other half of the border.

Kiba smiled back. He liked the calm and carefree attitude of this older boy. "Then just call me Kiba; s'all good to me. But what's your name?" he asked, tipping his head to one side slightly.

Readjusting his cap, the Blue Moon opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Temari shouting "Kankuro, come _on_, we're going," as she strutted off with Gaara following.

Kankuro smirked mischeviously and said, "Well, that's my cue. See ya 'round, Kiba." Giving the new Drake a quick, casual two-fingered salute, the Blue Moon turned to follow his siblings, leaving Kiba feeling rather confused. Was meeting a rival gang member supposed to make you feel this curious to know more about them?

Shaking his head, Kiba went to walk back toward Shikamaru and Ino. _Kankuro, huh? That's a name I definitely won't forget. _

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It was one in the morning when Kankuro, sprawled out comfortably on the couch in the Blue Moons' common room, found his mind had decided to wander back to Kiba for the umpteenth time in an attempt to convince himself that it was totally normal to be so drawn to someone he knew nothing about.

_Okay, that's not true, Kankuro argued with himself. There's a whole list of things I know about him:_

_1) He's a Drake._

_2) His name is Kiba._

_3) …uh, he's a boy._

_4) This list is pathetic._

Groaning, Kankuro flipped onto his stomach. _I really _don't_ know anything about him, but he's all I've been thinking about. Why? It doesn't make sense. I mean sure, he's good looking and stuff, but so are a ton of other people. What's so special about him? _

Unable to answer the question, Kankuro's eyes closed.

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**(1) shot-caller: another name for Head Boss; the leader of a gang**

**(2) TRG: stands for Tiny Rascal Gangster, which is reality is the name of the most powerful Asian gang today, but for this fic it's gonna be the word meaning a new gang member who has yet to prove himself**

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**Okay, just in case I wasn't clear, the Blue Moons are basically the gang that's the Hidden Sand Village/Sunagakure in this fic. **

**Thanks for reading, feedback please? **


	3. Puppy and Puppet

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto**

**BTW, "Sensu" is Temari's 'gang' name and "Kugutsu" is Kankuro's. Just fyi. **

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"Oh for fuck's sake, Ino," growled Shikamaru. "Can't you fucking walk now? My arms are getting tired."

Ino, who was being held bridal style by him, glared with red-rimmed and bloodshot eyes and spat, in between sobs, "So you think I'm a fat cunt too, huh?" She'd been crying ever since losing to Sensu in the kotoba no takakai, so Shikamaru had been carrying her the whole way back to the Drakes' base while trying to ignore her cries of, "She called me a wannabe! Said I wasn't a real **LRG(1)**! Fuck that, I'm more real than she'll ever be!"

Instead, Shikamaru was mulling over something else in his mind: the fact that Kugutsu–as he had always been called by rival gangs–had revealed his real name, Kankuro, to Kiba–a rival gang member he'd just met and, to top it off, who was a TRG. Gang members only told their own gang their true names, and sometimes not even them.

_Why_? Shikamaru wondered, his literally genius brain coming up with no answer.

* * *

Kiba sighed. The cool night air that rushed to meet his face was so different from the warm fumes he was used to at night. Continuing his saunter down the shadowed street, he took a sharp turn, walking over to an old, broken down apartment building and pulling himself up the rusted fire escape. With a lot of creaking and cursing, Kiba managed to haul himself onto the roof of the building.

Shivering from the breeze that seemed so much colder two stories up, Kiba noticed the whole world around him seemed to be enveloped in shadows that could be hiding anything…or anyone. Back in Tohoku, even this late, there were always at least a couple of people wandering about in the exposed, well-lit streets. Of course, back in Tohoku, a lot of things were different.

Gazing out over the half-shadowed alleyways, something flickered in his peripheral vision. Snapping his eyes to the spot, a particularly dark alley, Kiba narrowed his dark brown eyes. He had been so certain that someone had been there, but… Shaking his head at his own paranoia, Kiba made to sit on the edge of the roof when a voice said, "You know, you really shouldn't **slip(2)** so easy."

Letting out a startled yelp, Kiba sprang back up and whirled around, instinctively reaching to his jeans pockets for his knives. Standing before the newly initiated Drake was Kankuro, with an extremely amused expression on his face. "Relax, puppy. S'just me."

Glaring down at his empty pockets, Kiba muttered darkly, "I'm gonna kill Shikamaru for not giving me a replacement weapon. Wait, did you just call me _puppy_?"

"Mhm," Kankuro hummed back, clearly unconcerned with the Kiba's new nickname. The latter gave him a "what the fuck?" look. Kankuro just shrugged. "I dunno. You jus' kinda remind me of one. I have no idea. Anyways, you need a gun?"

"Yeah," Kiba answered slowly, suspicious of the motives the Blue Moon had.

"Here," Kankuro said, slipping one from the pocket of his hoodie.

"What the–" Kiba's exclamation was cut short as he took a startled step back–into empty air.

Quick as a cobra, Kankuro lunged forward and grabbed Kiba's hand just before the younger boy plunged to a premature death. Grunting with effort, Kankuro yanked Kiba back onto the roof, pressing him against his broad chest.

"Fuck," Kiba finished, his voice barely an audible whisper. Still trembling in shock, Kiba didn't even notice Kankuro's protective embrace. But when he did, he quickly broke it, trying to ignore the fact that the older boy hadn't seemed to want to.

Realizing that Kankuro was still offering the gun to him, Kiba stammered, "Oh, uh, thanks," and took it.

"When I said you shouldn't let your guard down, I didn't mean to be a scaredy cat either," Kankuro said dryly, but Kiba could see the amusement in his eyes and in the way that one eyebrow had risen ever so slightly.

"Shut up," Kiba said, sticking out his tongue and wrinkling his nose. As Kiba examined the pistol in his hands, Kankuro almost laughed out loud at how much he sounded like a little kid with no better comeback.

_S'cute, _Kankuro decided with satisfaction.

"Holy shit, she's nice, man," Kiba remarked with awe, his inspection of the firearm complete. Stroking the flawlessly smooth barrel, he looked up at Kankuro. "Why the hell are you helping me? And why the _fuck_ are you giving me such a nice gun?"

"_His_ name's Crow," Kankuro answered, receiving a bemused look from Kiba.

"_He_?"

"Yes, he," confirmed Kankuro. "And I dunno. You're new 'n I felt like takin' some pity on ya, I guess."

"Last I heard, you killed the last person who joined the Drakes," Kiba pointed out accusingly, not fooled by Kankuro's cool and compliant demeanor.

Ignoring this, Kankuro continued, "And I gave you the Crow 'cause I have another one." Pulling out yet another gun, this one from his back pocket, Kankuro showed Kiba a silver handgun that perfectly matched the one in his hand. "She's called the Black Ant."

"Oh, so this one's a girl," Kiba snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Yes. They're twins." Walking forward, Kankuro placed the two guns next to each other. They were exact mirror images of one another except for the fact that their respective names were engraved onto the barrels in fancy calligraphy. "They go hand in hand, and I've always used them together. I guess you can kinda say they're special to me."

"They why give me one? Why help me at all? I'm a TRG _and_ from a rival gang." Kiba turned his questioning gaze up to look at Kankuro, cocking his head slightly.

"I guess it's just 'cause–get down!" Suddenly throwing himself flat against the ground, Kankuro grabbed one of Kiba's hands and dragged him down just as two shots rang out, and Kiba missed death by a split second once again.

Instantly, the experienced and fully trained Blue Moon leapt up and fired a single shot so quickly that Kiba hadn't even seen him aim. The thud of a body could be heard after Kankuro's bullet hit its target. "Damn straight," he smirked to himself.

Trying to stand up as well, Kiba hissed in pain as he moved his right leg. A dark stain was beginning to blossom on his jeans. "Shit."

"You aight?" asked Kankuro, trying to help him up, druing which Kiba stumbled, his right knee buckling under his weight, and the two went down again–landing hard.

Groaning, Kankuro found he was propped up on his elbows looking up at Kiba holding himself up somewhat by planting a hand on either side of Kankuro's torso. He also happen to be on hands and knees between Kankuro's legs, which were bent at the knee. "Er, sorry?" Kiba apologized rather sheepishly, a blush lightly coloring his cheeks.

"S'all right," Kankuro responded, doing his best not to laugh at Kiba's embarrassed look. _It's fucking adorable…_ "It just makes it easier to do this." With that, Kankuro leaned up, closed his eyes, and gently pressed his lips against the other boy's.

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**(1)LRG: lady Rascal gangster; in reality it's just a name that the female Tiny Rascal Gangsters have given themselves, but for this fic, it's gonna be a general term I use for girl gangsters**

**(2)slip: be off guard**

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***gasp* And thus their relationship begins. Lolz, anyways, next chapter's gonna have some nice lemony smut (how could it not?) and I'mma introduce how the gangs work and all that stuff. This didn't really go anywhere except set up the lemon, so sorry bout that. But I still wanna know how I'm doing. Reviews please?**

**P.S. Did you like how I incorporated Kankuro's puppets into the story? I practically died spazzing when I thought of making them into guns XD **


	4. Lime

**Time for me write my favorite flavor of pie: lemon! (True story, bro. Lemon meringue is amazing)**

**BTW, I know I basically disappeared off the face of the planet for an entire month, (sorry about that, I feel pretty guilty) but inspiration apparently decided it hated me and bailed. It took me forever to finish _this_ chapter even I had over half of it written months ago. Sorry again! Please enjoy (to anyone who even remembers this) :]**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

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After a moment, Kankuro pulled back and glanced up.

Kiba's eyes were guarded as he silently gazed down at the older boy, not giving anything away.

Kankuro's heart gave a painful twist, bitter disappointment welling up inside him.

"I-I'm sorry," he murmured, dropping his gaze and attempting to get out of their now awkwardly intimate position. But his movements were halted by a soft pair of lips tentatively touching his own.

Astonished, Kankuro looked at Kiba after their second kiss.

Giving the Blue Moon a small (and fucking attractive) smile, Kiba just shrugged. "I never said to stop, did I?"

Kankuro's face broke out into a huge and he captured Kiba's lips in yet again, this time far more passionately.

Moving his lips rhythmically against Kankuro's, Kiba felt a hand bury itself in his shaggy brown hair and tried in vain not to smile and break the kiss. Their lips still moving together, he then felt Kankuro's tongue slide across his bottom lip. Kiba gladly granted access.

Being so caught up in fighting for dominance of the kiss, Kiba was completely unprepared for the swap in positions Kankuro initiated.

Slamming Kiba against the ground, Kankuro straddled him, smirking evilly. Kiba would've growled his displeasure…if Kankuro hadn't chosen that moment to strip off his shirt and toss it off to the side–then the younger boy just stared.

Kiba knew he wasn't fat or anything; no, he was in rather good shape if he did say so himself, but that was until he saw Kankuro. Flawlessly smooth and tanned just slightly to perfection, Kankuro's upper body was what ever girl dreamed of and every guy worked his whole life to get. With well-muscled arms, a broad chest, toned shoulders, the world's most obvious and fucking sexy six pack, and distinct "V" lines on his hips, Kiba propped himself up on his elbows and said, "Fuck man. And here I was about to take my shirt off too. But screw that."

"What, you jealous? Yeah, you should be," Kankuro teased, leaning forward to press their forheads together so he could admire Kiba's eyes.

"You have fucking V lines on your hips! No shit I'm jealous," retorted Kiba, rolling his eyes. "Who the hell wouldn't be?"

"Then you should be glad it's all yours," Kankuro murmured, lowering his mouth to lay butterfly-light kisses on Kiba's neck.

As Kiba hummed his pleasure and tilted his head to give better access, Kankuro reached under Kiba's shirt to press one hand against Kiba's firm four pack. Grinning against Kiba's neck, Kankuro let his hand wander up and tweaked one hardening nub on Kiba's chest while harshly biting his neck.

Kiba let out a yelp, which quickly turned into a heavy moan as Kankuro finally ground their hips together. Though Kiba had been expecting this for a while, he still wasn't quite prepared for the friction and sensation it gave him. His face flushed as Kankuro slipped one hand into his jeans to help the younger boy's half-mast erection.

Leaning forward again, Kankuro's lips met Kiba's while his hand continued its ministrations. As Kiba moaned loudly again and involuntarily bucked his hips toward Kankuro's hand, the Blue Moon felt his own pants get rather tight. Once Kiba was fully erected, Kankuro broke the kiss and pulled of Kiba's shirt, finally baring the torso Kiba had become so self-conscious about. But he couldn't figure out why…

So maybe Kiba didn't a six pack or whatever, but he was by no means not good-looking; and anyone who said otherwise would get shot with no hesitation or regret from Kankuro.

Kiba. Was. Fucking. Perfect.

Hooking his fingers onto the loose waistband of Kiba's dark jeans, Kankuro began to slide them off.

This was where Kiba's past experience ended. He'd never been with a guy before and wasn't sure what to expect when it came to sex.

"Wait," he panted, in between his rapid breathing.

Kankuro's actions instantly stopped. Glancing up, the Blue Moon saw the flash of fear in his partner's lust-filled brown eyes. "What's wrong, puppy?" he asked.

"I-I don't know," Kiba admitted, blushing from both arousal and embarrassment at his hesitation. "It's just this is my first time and…" He trailed off and looked away, ashamed of his own uncertainty.

But Kankuro didn't need words to understand. This was the first time that he had considered their age gap of 2 years might mean Kiba was still a virgin–well, at least in the way that it mattered to Kankuro–and therefore inexperienced and nervous. Not that Kankuro minded.

Tenderly kissing Kiba, he murmured, "S'all right. If you don't wanna, we won't. I can give head just as well, anyways. That fine?"

Kiba sensually traced his tongue along Kankuro's jaw in a silent "yes," relief coursing through him.

Smiling, Kankuro slid Kiba jeans and boxers down in one quick movement. Kiba hissed at the assault of cold air on his throbbing cock, but it soon turned into a low moan as Kankuro took him into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the head before trailing it down the length, Kankuro could feel Kiba tremble in pleasure as the hot, hard organ pulsed in his mouth.

"Fuck, Kankuro," Kiba moaned louder while his hands tightened into fists as he braced himself against the ground, encouraging Kankuro to speed up.

Bobbing his head, Kankuro alternated sucking and humming, occasionally flicking his tongue over Kiba's tip. "Nnnnghh," Kiba groaned breathlessly at the feeling of Kankuro's wet, hot cavern around his member. Tipping his head back in sheer pleasure, Kiba opened his mouth slightly in a silent moan. Swirling his tongue around once more, Kankuro decided to try deep throating Kiba, a useful trick he'd picked up over the years.

Pushing his head forward, Kankuro allowed Kiba's cock to go as far back as possible before humming as loud as he could. His reward was Kiba crying out, "Kankuro!" as the heat that had been pooling in his groin exploded and his seed emptied into Kankuro's mouth. Kankuro easily swallowed as Kiba's eyes closed as he rode out the intense pleasure shockwaves of his orgasm.

After a couple minutes, the more experienced of the two sat up and pulled a sweat-covered Kiba to him for another passionate kiss. Kiba found it weird to be tasting himself, but didn't mind since the taste of Kankuro was far stronger and sweeter in his mouth.

"Mmm, you do give good head," Kiba murmured exhaustedly. Noticing that Kankuro's neglected member was still begging for attention, Kiba, eyes fluttering, reached between them and began to pump Kankuro's length. The unsuspecting boy's breath hitched, allowing Kiba to shove his tongue down Kankuro's throat.

Kankuro still put up a formidable fight for dominance, but Kiba could feel him shuddering with each rapid pump of his hand. Once Kiba felt Kankuro's length begin to pulse and heard him let out a deep groan, Kiba ended the kiss in order to bite down on his neck, returning the favor from earlier.

The sudden pain set off his climax, and Kankuro cried out as his seed splattered all over Kiba's hand and their chests.

"Shit, Kiba," Kankuro panted in the aftermath of his orgasm.

But Kiba hardly heard, for his eyes closed and he fell forard into Kankuro's lap. Flipping the Drake so he was leaning back into Kankuro's chest, the corner of his mouth twitched up into a small smile as Kankuro wrapped his arms around the already shivering Drake.

_Too bad it's so damn cold,_ Kankuro thought absentmindedly. _I wouldn't mind just sleeping with him like this._

Reaching over, Kankuro grabbed their discarded clothes and continued to dress himself and Kiba–a difficult task since he didn't want to wake the boy. Settling his new lover–if that was the word–into his arms, Kankuro prepared to drift off when he felt something warm and wet on his leg. Looking down, Kankuro saw blood leaking from Kiba's ripped jeans.

"Aw, _fuck._"

Quickly covering the wound with one hand to staunch the bleeding, which was getting heavier every second, Kankuro stripped off his shirt again. He then wrapped it around Kiba's inner thigh, where the injury was. Hoping that would be enough, Kankuro hugged Kiba close to him before finally closing his eyes.

* * *

**So, how did my first Naruto lemon scene do? Bad? Good? God awful (probably this one, huh?)? Review and let me know please :)**


	5. Remembrance

**Dear Nightpulse, Maxsunny, AmisaRusso, and anyone else who reviewed my last chapter, **

**Thanks soo much for reviewing, and here's the next chapter.**

**~Sincerely, TheMipstaz  
**

**P.S. Since I actually got legit feedback with what I should write about in the last reviews, I'm giving you guys a two-in-one update! I'mma post the next chapter in about 10 minutes ;) Luv ya guys~**

**P.S. #2: For this fic, the Cloud 9's are the Hidden Cloud Village. Ya know, the one that has a Raikage and stuff. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto**

* * *

Kiba grimaced as warm, sticky blood slowly dribbled down his face, the substance seeming not be satisfied with just stained his hands. Ducking back behind the building that was serving as his cover, the brunette muttered a string of curses as he assessed his situation.

He was the one of two survivors of a tagging group that had been sent out to mark up some of the territory of another gang, called Cloud 9, just to piss them off. However, what Tsunade hadn't been counting on when she ordered them to go, was that the tagging squad might actually run into some Cloud 9's–a full patrol of them to be exact.

And that's when the shit hit the fan.

Upon discovering Drakes on their turf, the 8 Cloud 9's had open fired, instantly killing 3 of Kiba's squad of 6 before they managed to take cover. They had then taken the life of another Drake who had been injured in the initial round and hadn't been able to find a sufficient hiding spot.

Pressing his back harder against the building, Kiba glanced over at the other remaining Drake: another TRG named Konohamaru, who'd been damn annoying ever since Kiba joined the Drakes. Kiba knew he might as well have been the sole survivor seeing as it was Konohamaru he was stuck with. The little 14 year-old boy couldn't aim a gun for jack shit and wouldn't know what stealth was if it punched him in the face.

In fact, the only reason Kiba figured Kononhamaru wasn't making a racket and giving away their location now was because he'd been hit by a bullet earlier and seemed to be starting to pass out from blood loss.

Based on their current predicament, Kiba's first instinct was to try and creep across the border without being noticed, however slim his chances were; there was no way he could kill the 7 remaining Cloud 9's by himself. Nevertheless, as much as Kiba hated Konohamaru, he couldn't bring himself to leave the kid in hostile gang territory. It just didn't seem right.

Still racking his brain trying to come up with a plan, Kiba heard Kurai, the leader of the Cloud 9 patrol, yell out, "Come on, Drakes! If you had the balls to come and try to tag here, then at least give us the pleasure of beating the shit out of you for it."

Kiba's frown deepened. _Well shit, what am I supposed to do now? _Gazing down at the Crow held loosely in his hand, Kiba mournfully thought, _Damn, I won't be able to meet up with Kankuro tonight if I die here. That sucks. Well, I better at least _try_ to not die, or else I'll never hear the end of it from him. _

His mind made up, Kiba looked over at Konohamaru and said, "Alright, Konohamaru, you ready to make a run for it? These dipshit's aren't gonna kill us, got it? You're too young to die, and I got a rendezvous tonight."

Konohamaru, pale and sweaty, nodded his head, too weak to respond.

"Good, on the count of three, you're gonna make a break for the border while I cover you, okay? One…two…"

Suddenly, Kiba heard the pounding of footsteps–the 9's were rushing them to flush them out of their hiding place.

"Three!" Kiba yelled, shoving Konohamaru forward and whipping around, the Crow locked and loaded.

Easily killing the first guy who turned the corner, Kiba then threw himself to the side in anticipation of the bullets that whistled by him. Keeping his gun aimed at the Cloud 9's the whole time, the Crow took the lives of 3 more men. Rolling to his feet, the Drake raced around the nearest corner of building for temporary cover. As a particularly naive gang member raced straight past him, Kiba stuck out his foot, tripping the boy before burying lead in his skull.

"Shi!" came a shrill screech. Whipping around, Kiba shot before he had even laid eyes on his target, the Crow seeming to know exactly where the girl was. As the second to last Cloud 9 fell, Kiba smirked his satisfaction, calmly wiping blood from the corner of his mouth; then a shot rang out.

The brunette froze and mentally added up the bodies. He was missing one–Kurai. "Damn it!"

Taking off at a run, Kiba didn't have to go far before he found the leader of the deceased Cloud 9 squad standing over the unmoving body of Konohamaru, her gun smoking and facing away from him. A large blood stain was blossoming from Konohamaru's back.

"Oh _hell_ no," Kiba narrowed his eyes.

Raising his arm, Kiba aimed and his finger pulled the trigger–just as Kurai turned around. He caught a glimpse of her eyes before she fell, eyes that were wide and manic-looking. Her pupils had shrunk, making the red blood-vessels in her eyes all the more prominent. Kiba would later wonder if it was because she had realized all of her comrades had been killed under her leadership.

As her body fell to the ground, lifeless, he walked over to Konohamaru. Kicking aside Kurai, he knelt beside the young boy, feeling an unusual stab of grief. Why should he when all the little dipshit did was make his life miserable ever since Kiba had arrived? Yet, here he was now, kneeling beside Konohamaru's body and all he could think was all the times he'd been pissy toward the 14 year-old.

* * *

_"Who the fuck are you?" _

_Kiba raised one eyebrow, his trigger finger twitching. "Excuse me?" _

_"Shut up, Konohamaru," Shikamaru said, brushing by the younger boy who had met him, Ino, and Kiba at the entrance of the Drake's base. "He's new, okay? We're gonna go introduce him to Tsunade right now." _

_As Temari and Kiba followed Shikamaru in, Konohamaru kept his eyes locked on Kiba in a threatening stare._

The little ass thinks he can fuck with me_, Kiba thought in annoyance. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the Drake's base and he almost whistled in admiration. The abandoned church that the Drakes had chosen for their base was quite impressive–it's domed ceiling stretching far above and its spacious interior littered with sofas. _

_What was even more imposing was the sheer number of people who occupied the base, at least 50 or 60, and all carried an array of intimidating weapons. _

_All at once, Kiba realized Shikamaru and Ino had stopped walking. Peering over them, Kiba saw a blonde, and quite busty, woman sitting casually in a great throne-like chair–one leg draped over an armrest and her back on the other one. Her extremely low-cut top proudly displayed her cleavage and tight leather pants emphasized her fucking amazing ass. Or at least that's what most guys would've been thinking; Kiba, however, was going through this whole "am-I-gay-or-straight" phase, so he could've cared less. _

_"Lady Tsunade," Shikamaru said respectfully, both him and Ino going down on one knee and bowing their heads to the ground. _

_"What?" Tsunade passed a bored gaze over the two of them. A black-haired woman standing next to her elbowed Tsunade fiercely, who yelped. "Shizune!" _

_Shizune just glared threateningly at the blonde, who caved, muttering, "Alright, alright." _

_Sitting up properly, Tsunade corrected herself, "Yes, Shikamaru, Ino?" _

_"Today, we found someone who would like to join the Drakes." _

_"Rise and introduce him," Tsunade said more formally, her eyes glittering with interest. _

_Standing up, Ino grabbed Kiba's wrist and pulled him forward, saying, "Lady Tsunade, may I introduce Kiba. He has already proven himself as an able-bodied fighter and will be of-age in approximately 2 years." _

_The shot-caller of the Drakes nodded at this intel, silently evaluating Kiba with thoughtful brown eyes. "I see, can either of you vouch for him?" _

_Shikamaru and Ino shared a brief glance before Shikamaru said, "Yes, m'lady. We both will." _

_"Very well," Tsunade said. "Then I approve of this addition to the Drakes. Kiba, do you–" _

_"Wait just one fucking second!" Five pairs of eyes turned to look at the speaker. _

_Konohamaru angrily stalked up to the shot-caller, and pointed an accusing finger right at her face. "Granndma, you can't just take one look at this guy and automatically say, 'Okay, you're in.'" _

_Tsunade raised one eyebrow. "And why can't I? I'm in charge of the Drakes, aren't I?" _

_"Well yeah, but…" whined Konohamaru, "I had to wait for _years_ until I could become a TRG!" _

_"That's 'cause you were born into the Drakes," Tsunade pointed out calmly. "Kiba is already 16." _

_"W-well, I bet he can't even shoot a gun," Konohamaru stated smugly. _

_"So? Neither can you," Ino retorted, earning herself a death glare from the 14 year-old. _

_Tsunade rolled her eyes. "Shikamaru, let Kiba borrow your gun for a second." Shikamaru complied. "Kiba, think fast!" Without warning, the blonde woman slid a knife from her pocket and tossed it up in the air towards Kiba, blade spinning like a top. _

_Immediately, Kiba's arm straightened out and he fired the gun, hitting the knife right on the flat of the blade and knocking it off course and away from him._

_Konohamaru paled at the older boy's skill with a firearm. "Well, I bet he can't–" _

_"That's enough, Konohamaru!" Tsunade said sharply. "Unless you want to be taken off patrols for a week." _

_"No…" the boy muttered in defeat. _

_"Good, now Kiba is a TRG, so deal with it." The leader of the Drakes nodded her dismissal to them, and the four of them walked away. _

_As Shikamaru and Ino disappeared to talk to some other gang members, Konohamaru scowled at Kiba and darkly said, "Don't think this is over. You don't deserve to be here, and you know it. I'm just here to make sure that everyone else sees it too." Then he stormed off. _

* * *

Kiba shook his head, smiling almost fondly at the memory. Then he picked up the smaller boy and his vision blurring as he mourned.

* * *

**OMG I can't believe that it hasn't even been a week since I last updated this fic! *does happy dance* I am so proud of myself ^.^ Now if only I could do that for all my fics… Anyways, thanks for reading :) Please drop me a review, it makes me happy. Plus, I need the feedback 'cause I have no idea where this fic is going…**


	6. The Last TRG

**Told you guys I'd be updating twice in the same part. Okay, this is basically part 2 of the previous chapter, but I split 'em up because Ch. 5 was getting really long. Anyways, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

* * *

Ino, who was on guard duty for the final shift before the night guards took over, paled when she saw Kiba approached, spattered with blood and carrying the lifeless body of Konohamaru. "I'll get Sakura," she whispered before disappearing inside the church.

Following, Kiba pretended not to notice the many stares he got as he crossed the main room to get to a small secluded set of rooms set aside to serve as the medical wing. Sakura was already preparing gauze and antibacterial sprays when he arrived.

"Ino's gone to inform Lady Tsunade," the pink-haired girl told him. "Um, just set Konohamaru down over there," she instructed Kiba, motioning to a cot on the other side of the room. Kiba did as he was told, his eyes blank and dull like a zombie's.

"Sit down and relax," Sakura urged him. "I'm just gonna clean off the blood, okay?" Stripping off Kiba's stained shirt, the Drake's main medical doctor began to wipe the dry, dark brown substance from Kiba's face and neck. But no matter what Sakura did, she knew she wouldn't be able to help clean up the emotional wreck Kiba was in.

* * *

It was two days after Konohamaru's death, and Kiba had just witnessed his very first gang burial ceremony. It involved the actual burying of the fallen boy's body, as well as the engraving of his name onto one of the side walls of the huge church along with the date of his death.

If Kiba's mind had been working properly, he might have been a little indignant by the fact that Konohamaru's name blended into the stone like anyone else's–there was nothing to distinguish him from the hundreds of others. Instead, Kiba was still in a state of shock at seeing just how fragile life was. With the single twitch of a finger, the flame of a 14 year-old's life could be ended like _that_. And then poof, it was over.

"Hey." Kiba blinked his brown eyes and looked up. He was surprised to find himself on the second story balcony of the base. What was more surprising was his company: Tsunade.

Suddenly remembering his manners, Kiba made to kneel down as was custom, but she halted him with one hand.

"No, it's alright. I just want to talk, no formalities."

"Uh, okay," Kiba replied, straightening up. "About what?"

Tsunade, who was leaning over the railing, resting on her elbows, gave him an odd look. "Ya know, when I first saw you, I thought you looked pretty smart. Guess I was wrong."

Kiba frowned at the insult.

"About Konohamaru, you dumbass," the shot-caller said exasperatedly.

"Oh." Kiba's frown deepened.

Tsunade's gaze softened and she turned back to look straight ahead at the cold, abandoned city that made up the gangs' territories. "He didn't really hate you, you know."

"Coulda fooled me," the brunette commented dryly, leaning back against the wall.

"I think it was just that the loss of both his teammates was hard on him, and he–"

"Wait, what?" Kiba abruptly realized that he'd interrupted the leader of his gang, but he needed to know. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Tsunade explained, not minding that she'd been cut off, "when Konohamaru had just been made a TRG, he was done so with two other kids: Moegi and Udon. Since they were all the same age, the three of them had become quite close, and I did my best to keep the three of them together. Then" –Tsunade's expression darkened– "one day, the three of them and their mentors were out on patrol when they were ambushed by a patrol of Blue Moons."

Kiba's brown eyes widened.

"Their three mentors were killed trying to protect them, and the three made it back to base, but Moegi and Udon had been terribly injured. Udon died while being cared for, and Moegi survived with horrific scarring and the loss of one eyes. Konohamaru healed well with minor injuries."

"Then he was lucky," prompted Kiba.

"You could say that…" Tsunade paused. "But I think it's more likely that Konohamar's friends sacrificed themselves to protect him."

"How old were they?"

"This happened about a year ago, so the three of them were probably 13 or so," responded Tsunade.

Kiba pursed his lips, deep in thought. _Such loyalty at such a young age… _"So what happened to Moegi?"

"A few days after she was released from Sakura's care, Moegi and Konohamaru went for a long walk by themselves. They were missing for about half a day, and when they came back, Konohamaru appeared quite sad. I didn't think much of it, thinking he was still grieving over Udon; but that night, Moegi committed suicide."

"What?!" Kiba just stared in shock.

Tsunade nodded, her grief-stricken eyes closing as she sighed. "Yes. And the weirdest thing? Konohamaru didn't seem shocked at all at her funeral. He had a straight face throughout the whole thing…"

"As if he knew that it was going to happen," breathed Kiba, putting two and two together.

The blond woman nodded, opening her eyes and hardening her face.

"But why are you telling me this?" Kiba questioned, looking confused.

"Because I wanted you to know why Konohamaru was so spiteful and hateful of you. I didn't want you to continue to believe he didn't like you for no reason."

"So, then why _did_ he hate me?" Kiba asked, still not sure.

"I believe it's because, after his fellow TRGs' deaths, Konohamaru wanted to carry their burden of TRG responsibilities on his own shoulders in addition to his own. He wanted to be the best TRG to honor his friends' memories, so they could live it through him. Then you came along, and I think he believed you to be getting in the way of him fulfilling his friends' wishes. And he couldn't stand it."

Kiba thought long and hard about this. Tsunade waited patiently and in silence. She wanted to make sure she had hammered the message into Kiba's head.

Finally, the 16 year-old said, "Thank you, Lady Tsunade," and he left.

Turning to watch him go, brown eyes sparkled–hoping.

* * *

Exiting the base, Kiba walked the perimeter of the church until he stopped before the wall that held Konohamaru's engraved name. Locating it, the final remaining TRG gently traced the name with his finger, trying to engrave the name into his soul so he would never forget Konohamaru's story.

After a while of just staring at it, Kiba took the can of red spray paint he'd gotten from Shikamaru and adjusted the nozzle so the stream of paint would be as narrow as possible. Then he carefully held it up and colored in Konohamaru's name. Standing back to admire it work, Kiba was pleased to see that he could now easily identify Konohamaru's name from amongst the others.

Next, the brunette skimmed over all the other names and dates until he found the approximate dates he was looking for. Slowing down, Kiba carefully searched until he found one of them. Taking a can of blue spray paint, he did the same for the engraving that read: MOEGI.

Finally, he took the color yellow and spray painted Udon's name as well.

Lastly, on the ground before the wall of names, Kiba used the red spray paint to write: LOYALTY. Outlining it in blue, Kiba added a yellow drop-shadow. He grinned at how it had come out.

_Now no one will forget, or at least not for a while. Good-bye, Konohamaru…_

* * *

**Truth is? Okay, truth is that I got inspiration for/wrote this entire chapter (and the previous one) pretty much all in one night, and did nothing every other day since I last updated. Yup, I am both sad at my lack of inspiration and impressed at how much I wrote. **

**AAAAANYWAYYYSSSS, like I said last chapter, please review and give me feedback on what I should write about next. Last time action was requested, so I (hopefully) delivered. Any suggestions now? Please review :) **


	7. Raid

**GahhhhhHHHhh, sorry this has been on hiatus for so long. I just kinda fell out of this fandom for a bit, but since I've gotten so many nice reviews lately, I felt bad and decided to finally get off my lazy ass. And, to make it up to you, I made this one extra long ;)**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. **

* * *

"Hey."

Kiba whipped around, gun cocked and aimed before he'd even registered his target.

"Whoa there, tiger," Kankuro smirked in amusement, hands raised in mock surrender. "What's got you so jumpy?"

Kiba snorted, rolling his eyes, but lowered the firearm, clicking the safety back on. "Nothing."

"Aww, don't be like that, babe," purred the older boy, crossing the room quickly to pull Kiba into a loose hug.

Scowling, Kiba ducked out of the way. "'_Babe_'? I'm not a girl."

"Never said you were," Kankuro soothed, his gentle voice a complete contradiction to the rough way he pushed Kiba against the wall and pinned the younger boy there. It took all of Kiba's self-control not to wince as he felt pain rip through the old gun wound on his thigh.

With one arm planted on the wall above Kiba's head and the other on the opposite hip, trapping him there, Kankuro leaned down, his breath ghosting over the other boy's lips and causing Kiba to shiver. " 'Cause I wouldn't do this with a girl."

In the old warehouse the two had decided to call their own, the half light filtering through the shattered windows just barely illuminated the main room of the building–draping the corners in curtains of shadow. It was an old building located in a rarely visited corner of the Drakes' territory.

In other words, the perfect rendezvouz point.

The two had been meeting more frequently now, perhaps a couple times a week, give or take. Often at night, but Kankuro occasionally managed to slip away in broad daylight as well. It was those times that Kiba found he enjoyed most: when he could actually _see_ Kankuro's face instead of the shadowy silhouette he was used to at the dead of night.

It just so much more…intimate? Kiba wasn't sure, he just knew he liked it a lot better despite the fact that most of their sexual interactions occurred under the cover of darkness. Which was why he actually didn't mind Kankuro jumping him now.

As though he'd read his thoughts, Kankuro closed the gap between their lips and bodies. While his tongue thoroughly explored Kiba's more than willing mouth, the older boy pressed his body against Kiba's, effectively shoving the Drake flat against the wall.

Allowing his hands to wander down to Kiba's waist while Kiba's arms wrapped themselves around his neck, Kankuro chose that moment to finally grind their hips together, eliciting a soft moan from the other boy. Caught between a haze of pain and pleasure, Kiba's eyes fluttered closed.

Drifting his kisses lower, Kankuro's mouth trailed down Kiba's jawline before settling on his neck while one hand also meandered down south.

Kiba gasped as the delicious friction was suddenly replaced by Kankuro's hand groping in his pants. The younger boy moaned louder, subconsciously arching into the touch as Kankuro sucked on his pulse. Fingers hooking under the hem of Kiba's shirt, Kankuro swiftly pulled off the offending article of clothing before doing the same to himself.

Pausing for a moment to admire the smooth contours of Kiba's chest and shoulders, Kankuro proceeded to attack the Drake's neck. Tilting his head to allow Kankuro more access, Kiba shuddered as pleasure racked his body in wave after wave, groaning softly and tangled his hands in the Blue Moon's thick hair, knocking off his snapback.

Leaning back to admire his handiwork, Kankuro smirked slightly. He gently brushed a finger over the large hickey now marring his pup, marking Kiba as _his_ and his alone.

Panting hard, his face flushed, Kiba opened his eyes to look lustfully into Kankuro's own lecherously clouded orbs. Seeing need encrypted in the desire, yet in the absolutely sexiest way possible, Kankuro grit his teeth as his pants tightened further.

Damn it, he just wanted to take Kiba _right fucking there_!

Swallowing back that particular carnal desire–he didn't want to break his puppy, now did he?–Kiba smirked in reply and offered Kiba three fingers to suck on as his other hand easily slid down Kiba's already loose jeans. Gently playing with his entrance, Kankuro smirked at the Kiba's impatient whine. As the younger boy shifted his hips in an attempt at penetration, Kankuro teasingly allowed the tips of two fingers to slip in–but no more.

"Fucking tease," Kiba growled, but let out a sudden gasp as Kankuro chose that moment to thrust both fingers all the way in. As Kankuro set a solid pace, stretching him at the same time, Kiba did his best to stop his legs from trembling as immense pleasure reverberated through his body.

Pants growing harsher, he let out a cry as a Kankuro's fingers stroked a particularly sensitive spot within him, setting his senses on fire.

Adding the third and final finger, Kankuro grit his teeth, his pants having tightened to a near unbearable degree. Racing through the final step of preparing Kiba, Kankuro slipped his own pants off at last and positioned himself at Kiba's entrance, barely giving the younger boy any notice before he thrust in.

Kiba let out a hiss in surprise that quickly turned into a deep moan as Kankuro hit his prostate dead on. Damn, and they'd only been together for a couple months. Tightening his grip on the older boy's hair, Kiba's next moan was swallowed as Kankuro captured his lips again, not once varying his harsh pace.

Heat building up in his gut, Kiba instinctively bucked his hips as he felt a hand around his neglected cock. He moaned loudly into Kankuro's mouth as the hand began to move, sending shivers of pleasure up his body. Between his prostate being pounded and the handjob, it didn't take much more for Kiba to release with a cry of, "Kankuro!"

As the Drake tightened around him, riding out his orgasm, Kankuro let out a throaty moan and came as well. As the pleasure-filled daze began to fade, Kankuro let out a sudden grunt as Kiba, trembling, fell forward. Catching the younger boy, Kankuro felt the Drake's heartbeat racing as his body slowly gave into exhaustion.

Hefting him into a more manageable position, Kankuro staggered to the large mattress in the corner of the room. Quickly throwing boxers and jeans on Kiba, who had already fallen asleep, Kankuro gently lay him on the mattress before slipping on his own jeans. Then he collapsed beside Kiba, grabbed several blankets that lay near the mattress, and covered the two of them.

Wrapping one arm over Kiba's waist and draping one leg over the younger boy's, Kankuro pressed his body closely against the Drake, letting out a sigh as Kiba's familiar scent washed over him.

Now _this_ was how life should be all the time.

* * *

"…Fuck, I gotta go." Kiba mumbled, still half asleep. Blearily rolling out of Kankuro's embrace, he unsteadily rose to his feet using the wall for support; he made a mental note not to fuck against a wall ever again because his back hurt like a bitch.

Struggling to keep his eyelids from drooping further, Kiba blindly scrabbled around for his shirt, noticing his jeans were already on–though he didn't remember doing that.

"…eh?" Kankuro opened one eye to hazily glance at the younger boy. "Whaddaya talkin' bout?" His face was still half buried in the old but comfortable mattress, so his question came out slightly muffled. The sole piece of furniture–though, without even a bed frame it could hardly be called such–in the whole room was nothing special, but it served its purpose well.

"We got a raid t'night," yawned Kiba, rubbing his eye with one hand. Stooping, he scooped Kankuro's snapback from the ground and made his way back to the older boy. Leaning down, he placed a chaste kiss on the Blue Moon's lips, only to have Kankuro pull him closer and deepen the kiss.

Breaking apart, Kiba grinned, "Later," and affectionately pulled the hat over Kankuro's eyes.

"But, baby, it's cold outside," Kankuro teased playfully, removing the snapback from its unhelpful position over his eyes. However, he was immediately met with a faceful of the balled up shirt Kiba had thrown at him–Kankuro's own shirt, in fact.

Chuckling at the Drake's muttering of, "Asshole," Kankuro groaned as Kiba left. He'd have to return back home soon too, and Gaara and Temari would probably be breathing down his neck asking about where he'd been. Truthfully, he hadn't exactly gotten away during "free time" like he'd told Kiba; rather, he'd simply ditched his patrol when they weren't looking.

But hey, he'd gotten to see Kiba _and_ get sex out of it, so it was all good. He'd just make some bullshit story up when they asked; no biggie. Closing his eyes once more, Kankuro promised himself five more minutes and drifted back off.

Little did he know that a pair of _very_ watchful eyes were observing his every move, quite interested to know why a Blue Moon was on Drake territory.

* * *

_You ready?_ Shikamaru mouthed.

Kiba nodded, slight frown deepening, and tightened his grip on the Crow._ Well, here goes nothing._

Ever so slowly, Tsunade rose, her inky silhouette lengthening against the harsh street lights. Kiba was dimly aware of four other shadows in the distance doing the same until a total of five figures were barely visible in the feeble lighting–encircling the city of Tohoku.

Then a gunshot rang out, and all Hell broke loose.

The army of Drakes leapt up and surged forward from the deep shadows, emitting ear-splitting howls and shrieks to shatter the silent night–Kiba snarling right alongside them. Following the signal, the four other gangs showed themselves as well, marking the night with their own blood-curdling yells.

As one, the five groups closed in on the unsuspecting city.

Almost immediately after the breach, alarms began to sound and lights began to flash as the raid began, members of his or her respective gang seeking to steal what supplies were needed. The Drakes had already scattered, leaving Kiba to search for the wanted ammunition on his own–not that he needed guidance.

The 15 year-old had literally grown up on the streets he was now roaming and easily remembered his way around.

Walking down a boulevard he knew would take him to the nearest gun store, Kiba kept to the shadows, avoiding the numerous pools of light that spilled onto the road and sidewalks at all cost. God knew who might see him.

Eyes flicking back and forth constantly, Kiba frowned slightly as his eyes struggled to adjust. The constantly flashing lights and deafening sirens that signaled the city's distress were quite annoying and made it very possible for someone to sneak up behind him and bury a bullet in his head before Kiba had even noticed the attacker.

Continuing unchallenged, what little Kiba _could_ make out didn't look very inviting. The several skirmishes–most being gang members fighting against authorities to retrieve whatever provision they'd been assigned–he'd witnessed had ended with one party dead.

Luckily, or unluckily, most times the cops were the ones who lost, but Kiba had seen a couple bodies of who could only have belonged to a rival gang. Once he'd reassured himself that none of them belonged to his gang, the Drake shuddered and turned away.

Kiba had to admit, he was impressed by how organized Tsunade had been. The goods taken from the weekly raids were evenly distributed among the Drakes, save for about a third. Those who were not assigned an item to retrieve were responsible for keeping the police busy and ensuring there were no casualties.

Suddenly, he heard a high-pitched shriek, "N-no, please!" Suspicion pooling in his belly, Kiba hesitated for a moment before pivoting around and silently making his way to the small side alley the voice had come from. Peering around the corner, Kiba felt his lip curl instinctively in disgust.

Standing there were a male and a female–both clearly gang members–cornering a cowering woman. The cringing woman's arms were crossed in front of her face protectively, visibly trembling, and her eyes were screwed tightly shut in fear. The man, who had a strange turban-like cloth covering one eye, held a small purse in his hands and was roughly shaking out all of the items in it.

As a handheld mirror, cell phone, and makeup kit came clattering out onto the ground, the girl gang member–_What are they called, LRG's?_ Kiba wondered–flinched.

"Baki…" the girl began in a soft, tentative voice. "I don't think–"

"Shut the fuck up, Matsuri," the older man–Baki–snarled. When nothing else fell from the bag, he threw it aside and advanced on the civilian woman, who shrunk back. "What kind of shit was that? Nothing but fucking worthless crap!"

"You know, you really shouldn't treat a woman like that," Kiba said cooly, walking nonchalantly down the alley towards them with his hands in his pockets.

Both the gang members whipped around, weapons flashing into sight. Kiba noted that, despite the girl's gentle demeanor, the hand pointing a pistol at his face didn't tremble in the slightest. Neither did that of Baki, who's trigger finger twitched.

"'N what's it t'you?" Baki narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"Do y'wanna find out?" Twin pistols suddenly manifested into Kiba's grip, each barrel aligned with the hearts of the two other gangsters.

Time seemed to stop as both sides stared at each other, silently daring the other to be the first to make a move. Mind racing, Kiba couldn't come up with a solution that would get him out of the situation alive.

_Shit, shit, shit,_ he thought, grimacing. _I'm fucked. Tsunade's gonna be pissed._

Some sort of unseen signal must have passed between Baki and Matsuri because the next thing Kiba knew, he noticed Baki tightening his grip on his gun–preparing to fire.

Then a gunshot rang out.

Kiba didn't dare remove his gaze from his two targets, instead choosing to strain his ears to find out who else had arrived. He was not surprised to see Matsuri hadn't glanced away either, but Baki had. Just as Kiba was about to bury lead into Matsuri's skull while Baki was distracted, a _very_ familiar voice said, "'Ey, what's goin' on here?"

_Kankuro?_

"Aren't you two s'posed to be gatherin' supplies?" Sure enough, the Blue Moon dropped from a second story balcony of one of the buildings lining the alley. Ignoring Kiba, he frowned, "Baki, get your shit together and go finish your fucking job. And stop picking Matsuri for your raid partner. It's disgusting and Gaara's not pleased."

"Yes, _Kankuro_," Baki spat after a good ten seconds of glaring death at the younger Blue Moon. Shoving past him, Baki stormed out of the alley, calling over his shoulder, "Matsuri, get'cho ass over here!"

Kankuro just snorted and offered a kind smile to Matsuri as she hurried past with a polite nod.

Kiba glanced to the corner of the alley where the woman had been cowering but found it empty. He blinked, but just shrugged.

Turning, he found Kankuro leaning against the wall with a smug look on his face. Kiba scowled.

"What, no 'thank you for saving my ass'?" Kankuro teased, smirking.

"Shut up." Kiba's scowl deepened, but he did walk over and press his lips to Kankuro's. "Thanks, babe."

"No problem," Kankuro grinned, adjusting his snapback. "So where you headed?"

"Gun store," Kiba replied. "You?"

"Nowhere. I'm on guard duty this time around." Kankuro straightened up, stretching. "Guess I'd better get goin' before I'm missed. Later, pup." Cupping Kiba's cheek and giving him one last chaste kiss, Kankuro winked before walking off.

Kiba rolled his eyes at Kankuro's cocky attitude, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips.

* * *

"So how'd you're first raid go?" asked Shikamaru, shoving his hands in his pockets and shivering against the cold.

Kiba shrugged, "Fine, I guess. So what happens now?"

Now it was Shikamaru's turn to shrug. "Not much, really. Generally nothin', unless somethin' went wrong. Then a Head Boss can call a **universal (1)** if they wanna. It's quite troublesome, really."

Shouldering the heavy belts of bullets strung across his chest in an X-formation, Kiba growled in annoyance as the several wrapped around his waist slipped further down once again. The fact that it was pitch black and 3 in the morning didn't help either.

"So what's that?" Kiba grunted, scrabbling with his load.

"A meeting under truce between all five gangs," explained Shikamaru, blowing some smoke from the cigarette dangling from his lips. "That's where the Bosses'll take up any issues they've noticed recently: border crossings, ambushes, etc. It used to be that universals were never held 'cause barely anythin' happened 'round here. But lately…" Shikamaru's gaze darkened.

Kiba cocked his head curiously.

"Lately, there've been rumors that the Demons are working with the cops," Shikamaru spat on the ground in disgust.

Kiba grimaced. He may have been still somewhat new, but even he knew involving the authorities was the lowest of the low, the absolutely most taboo thing that someone could do as far as the gangs were concerned. It was to the point that most gangs would immediately exile anyone caught in cahoots with the police, so the fact that an entire _gang_ might be fraternizing with the police put every other gang on edge.

"You think it's true?" Kiba asked.

"Not sure," Shikamaru admitted, "but I wouldn't be surprised, honestly."

"Um, by the way, who're the Demons again?" Kiba smiled sheepishly, clearly embarrassed.

Shikamaru snorted, but grinned good-naturedly. "They're the gang to the west. The Blue Moons are to the south, the Revolvers to the east, the Cloud 9's to the north, and the Demons to the west. And we're right in the middle, which means we face threats from all sides. It sucks balls."

Kiba just laughed, readjusting the ammunition in his grip for the umpteenth time. "'Ey, could you, like, help me or somethin'? You're not carry anything."

"Pfft, in your fucking dreams."

* * *

When the Drakes arrived back home to those who had stayed behind–about a third of the entire gang–they were greeted with a pink-haired girl rushing out crying, "Lady Tsunade!"

Immediately the busty blonde shot-caller stepped forward, "Sakura? What's happened?"

"The Blue Moons have called an immediate universal," Sakuro said. "We have to go now; they said it's an emergency." Muttering instantly broke out among the Drakes, many exchanging anxious glances.

Tsunade's eyes narrowed, "Did they say why?"

"They said something about one of their members being caught by the cops." Kiba's chest clenched in sudden anxiety. What if…no, Kankuro would never be caught. There was just no way.

"Hmm, very well. Shizune, gather our forces. We're leaving as soon as possible." Tsunade's brows stayed furrowed as she hurried through the entrance to the Drakes' base to grab a new gun. The rest followed suit, dropping off whatever they'd been carrying.

Staying back, Kiba casually asked Sakura, "So, d'you happen to know who it was?" It took all his self-control not to let his voice tremble in fear.

She shook her head, "No, I don't know him very well." At the word "him," Kiba's breath hitched, his chest growing painfully tight.

"But I think they said his name was 'Karanagi' or something," Sakura finished. For a split second, Kiba could breathe normally again, almost smiling with relief.

"Oh wait, no. I think it was 'Kankuro.' Yeah, that's it."


	8. Haven

**Ugh, okay, so in the couple months that I stopped writing for this fic, my doc that had all my plot bunnies and gangster words was deleted -_-" Yeah, so I'm starting from scratch, basically. I had to look up new "gang" words and come up with new ideas; it sucks. Whatever, it _is_**** my fault, so just enjoy the chapter I managed to throw together :]**

**Oh yeah, and I sorta got hooked on Leilita Chan's Freeze Burn Tokyo, which has a ton of awesome context, thus explaining my crapload of random digressing about my AU a couple of times. Whoops ^_^"**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto**

* * *

Dawn still had yet to grace the earth with its warmth and light as the Drakes assembled in front of their base. Well, "assembled" was pushing it; for the most part, they were just milling around in general disarray waiting for Tsunade and Shizune–who were currently still inside–to give the word to head out to the universal.

That was simply how the Drakes rolled. At first glance, they might seem unorganized and chaotic, but when duty came knocking, each and every member immediately prepared to defend their gang and family–the two were one and the same–with their life without hesitation. Death was simply a risk of everyday life, the life _they_ chose; and no Drake would have traded it for anything.

At the moment, there was a lot of apprehensive muttering and sly side glances, yet no gang member seemed to want to be the first to break the near sacred silence.

A meeting between all five gangs was some serious shit, that much even Kiba had managed to figure out on his own as a result of the uneasy vibe the rest of the Drakes exuded in waves. And Kiba was no exception.

If anything, the newest Drake seem even more worried than the rest, not that he openly showed it. Rather, Kiba's nerves presented themselves in the form of the slightest downward twitch of his lips, the occasional, nearly unnoticeable wrinkle of his nose, and the way his usually lively brown eyes had darkened to unreadable, distant pools of hidden emotion.

And no one was the wiser–well, almost.

"You aight, Kiba?" Shikamaru raised one eyebrow at the younger boy, noting his uncharacteristic silence.

"Fine," Kiba replied shortly, averting his gaze and instinctively reaching to lay a reassuring hand on the Crow…only to find it wasn't there.

Silently cursing the unanimous truce all gangs respected, the reason Kiba had been forced to leave his beloved gun back at the base, the brunette calmed his racing thoughts with the memory of the rather large knife strapped onto his right forearm, hidden beneath the black hoodie he'd donned.

The weapon, spanning the entire length of his forearm, was only one of a pair, however, and Kiba felt almost lopsided without its mate attached to his other forearm. The blade he possessed was, in fact, the only remaining of the original pair Kiba had owned before joining the Drakes. After spending a painstakingly long time cleaning and sharpening the blade until the silver shone and glittered with a deadly glint–hungry for blood.

And more specifically, the blood of whomever had dared to touch Kankuro.

Eyes glossing over, Kiba almost shivered as he remembered his own numerous visits to the Tohoku prison. Flashes of memory–cramped, dank spaces filled with panicky breaths; the fierce aches of fresh bruises and the harsh sting of open gashes bleeding crimson over his battered body; the mercilessly repeated mantra echoing through his empty head: _I want to die. I want to die. I want to die_–came rushing back, and Kiba paled slightly, glazed eyes unblinking as he lost himself to the horrifying past.

"You sure? You look kinda nervous," Shikamaru peered closer at Kiba, eyes narrowing as the cigarette between his lips dipped low in response to the frown the more experienced Drake now wore. "S'all right, you know. This is one of my first universals too. My first was when I was a TRG, couple years back."

"Naw, m'good," Kiba ground out, gritting his teeth to dislodge himself from memory lane and doing his very damn best not to let his voice tremble.

Which was exactly what Shikamaru was waiting for. Now that he was focusing on Kiba, he caught the bare traces of fear and unease lacing through his voice, the faint shaking of his hands, and the glassy look beginning to break down the guarded expression he wore.

Just as Shikamaru was about to take a closer look and unearth the reason for Kiba's strange behavior once and for all, Tsunade and Shizune stepped out of the huge abandoned cathedral that served as the Drake's home and yelled, "'Ey!"

Immediately the Drakes fell into silence, all eyes watching their leader eagerly–who, on account of her standing on the slightly raised front steps to the church, they literally had to look up to–waiting for Tsunade's signal.

"S'time t'go," announced the blonde, her light brown eyes traveling over the crowd before her, her people. The distinct pale blue diamond tattooed on her forehead distorted slightly as she laid eyes on Kiba and her brow furrowed for a split second–almost too quickly for him to catch.

Almost.

"Fall out!" the Head Boss ordered, instantly breaking eye contact with Kiba to leap off her pedestal and take the lead. Her gang followed obediently behind her, troubled whisperings starting up again as they were led to the meeting place of the five Tohoku gangs.

However, the Drakes' newest member kept silent, disconcerted by the look Tsunade had given him–a _knowing_ look. A new brand of fear had suddenly settled in the pit of Kiba's stomach, no longer just afraid for Kankuro's safety, but for the safety of their best kept secret as well.

* * *

Kiba gaped, all thoughts suddenly wiped clean from his mind from awe.

"Looks good, huh?" smirked Shikamaru, lips curling up smugly as his hands burrowed deeper into his pockets. He was clearly pleased by Kiba's reaction to the place where universals were held.

It was a huge warehouse hidden on the outskirts of the gangs' territory, decorated brilliantly with age-old graffiti marring the walls and windows.

Like most of the gang members, Shikamaru had quite an eye for good graffiti, and it was this particular variegated collage of spray paint, chalk, and who knew what else that never ceased to amaze him. Though he'd seen it once before, Shikamaru's eyes still hungrily drank in the sight: countless scribbled signatures and slogans with audacity matched by none; the the scattered **blockbusters (2)**, flawlessly dropshadowed and outlined; the numerous **throw-ups (1)** painting a multitude of color throughout the place; even a **stencil (3)** or two adorned the worn walls.

In Shikamaru's eyes, it was as if the last twenty or thirty years had **bombed (4)** the whole place, yet every shade and color and tint touching the ancient wall juxtaposed in perfect harmony. And he loved it.

However, it wasn't just the incredible embellishments, which were close to ethereal, that made the meeting place special, the fact that it looked absolutely tiny and inconspicuous from the outside–because all graffiti was strictly forbidden on the outer walls and half of the place was hidden underground–meant that the cops would never find it. It's not like they would randomly walk into an abandoned warehouse just for the hell of it.

It was a sacred place to the gangs–particularly the Drakes, who had, after all, been the ones to find it all those years ago.

Stepping in, Shikamaru noted the thin layer of dust coating everything, indicating just how long it'd been since a universal had been held. Allowing his gaze to sweep slowly over the almost forgotten sight, he spotted his favorite. Approaching it, Shikamaru swiped a hand over the paint stained onto the stone and smiled as the dust relinquished its grip upon the graffiti.

"Welcome to Haven."

As the rest of the Drakes slipped in, the older members affectionately pointing out old memories to the younger ones who had yet to make any, Tsunade immediately crossed the length of the room to the flight of stairs at the far side that ended in a raised platform where five throne-like chairs sat innocently enough.

However, the way that the harsh, aging metal glinted even without aid of light seemed rather eerie–as though they held a great deal of secrets that they dared anyone to try and wrench away.

Placing herself in the central one, a seat that had peculiar twists and spikes of metal protruding curiously from it, Tsunade allowed her gaze to roam protectively over her clan as they awaited the arrival of the other four, Shizune faithfully standing beside her. Like a monarch watching over her kingdom, Tsunade's pale brown eyes almost glowed in the dim light seeping through the windows, not missing a single detail.

"C'mon," Shikamaru urged suddenly, grabbing Kiba's wrist and dragging him to the small stairwell concealed discreetly in the corner, "you need t'see something."

Had Kiba not been so starstruck at the sight of Haven, he might have been amused at how the usually laidback–not to mention fucking lazy–Drake had suddenly become eager and excited like a kid at the candy store.

Stumbling down the stairs, and nearly tripping in Shikamaru's haste, Kiba managed to wrench himself from the other boy's grip with a, "Let go, dumbass; I'm losin' circulation." Rubbing his wrist and growling a few more choice swear words, though there was no admittedly no real anger in his voice, Kiba almost blinked in surprise at the lack of a retort from the sharp-tongued Drake.

Then he squinted at his surroundings, trying to see with what little light managed to filter in from upstairs. Kiba caught a flare of red here, a splash of blue there, but couldn't really make out anything in the near dark room. "Um, Shikamaru, where th'hell are we?"

"Hold on," the other boy called, "lemme try to find the goddamned–here it is!"

Weak artificial lighting abruptly flashed to life, causing Kiba to flinch involuntarily with a startled growl. When he opened his eyes and had adjusted, he found himself lost for words once again.

The underground room, though considerably smaller than the main floor, was covered floor to ceiling with **pieces (5) **and** wildstyle (6)**. The absolutely crazed explosion of color and interweaving dimensions stunned Kiba, who, up until now, had been exposed to little more than a blockbuster or two.

But this, _this_ was far beyond anything he could've ever imagined.

Each wall was sheeted floor to ceiling in a color theme–ranging from bright, neon yellows to deep, vibrant purple hues to pure black and white with every shade of grey in between. Free, swirling and rigidly curt lines, all varying in thickness and opacity, danced and fraternized in a deliciously captivating dance of melding graffiti style that only the trained eye of a gang member could discern, follow, and appreciate.

"There's even a couple **heavens** if y'look up," advised Shikamaru as he stepped forward to trace a finger lovingly along the feral lines that gave life to the artistic imagination of whomever had clearly spent countless hours perfecting. Glancing at the signature, Shikamaru felt the corner of his mouth twitch upward at the well-known name: HASHIRAMA SENJU.

As Kiba's head craned back, Shikamaru explained, "S'what Asuma said t'me when he first took me here. Pretty sweet, huh?"

"Sweet? This place is fucking amazing," Kiba grinned, walking forward and kneeling beside the wall to brush one hand appreciatively over the artwork. "Seriously, what other secrets are you keep–"

Suddenly the shattering of glass, several gunshots, and loud screaming cut the Drake off.

"What the fuck?" cursed Shikamaru as he whipped around and raced up the stairs.

"Shikamaru?" Kiba jumped up, knife instinctively sliding from the sheath strapped to his arm into his ready grip.

Practically flying up the stairs, Kiba opened his mouth to shout again, only to be bowled over with a sharp cry of, "Kiba, watch out!"

A sudden crack erupted into the air, and Kiba's eyes flinched closed as he shrank from the sound, feeling something warm and liquid splatter his face and dampen his hoodie. Without warning something fell collapsed on him, its deadweight pinning him down in the safe mouth of the stairwell as a metallic stench assaulted the Drake's nose–a scent he knew well.

Taking deep steadying breaths, which only succeeded in making him more nauseous, Kiba attempted to calm his rapid–almost panicky–pulse and banish the dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm him as reality came crashing down onto him: gun shots meant death.

Kiba was afraid to open his eyes, afraid of whose body he'd find laying lifeless and unmoving atop his own.

Yet, as more shots rang out in chorus with frantic yells and the sound of obvious scuffling, Kiba knew he couldn't just lay there, paralyzed by fear of things that had happened in the past while his newfound friends and family died before his eyes.

_Again,_ added the unbidden voice in his mind.

Unscrewing his eyes, Kiba was met with the very sight he'd both expected and dreaded: Shikamaru, motionless with a deep crimson stain blossoming rapidly from his back. Kiba grit his teeth as he gingerly levered the other boy off himself. Setting Shikamaru in a sitting position, Kiba mechanically pressed two fingers to the Drake's neck, feeling for the pulse he knew wouldn't be there.

Yet he couldn't help the sharp stab of grief and bitter disappointment that bit deep into him as he found no trace of the life-indicating heartbeat that should have been throbbing against his fingers.

Suddenly, raw fury replaced Kiba's anguish, igniting a flame that burned to a nearly unbearable degree beneath the Drake's skin. All rational thought was suddenly shoved to the back corner of his mind as Kiba rose, the grip on his knife tightening in a telltale sign of what shit was about to go down.

His ears immediately registering the sounds of conflict still emitted from the main room of Haven, Kiba stepped slowly over Shikamaru's body before entering the fray–his cold and inexplicably calm movements in complete contrast to the raging inferno that was blazing through his almost incoherent mindset.

A single word had branded itself in Kiba's head: _revenge_.

Vengeance for Kankuro's kidnapping, for the disturbance to this most sacred of places, for Shikamaru's death; Kiba wanted it all.

Stepping out from the mouth of the stairwell, Kiba's first full view of the battle was pure chaos: shattered glass lay strewn on the floor as a result of the multiple broken windows; the main doors were ajar, one barely hanging on by its hinges from the obviously forced entrance; and human mayhem was occurring everywhere in sight.

The entire place was alive and writhing with warring bodies of police and gang members from all five gangs–who had apparently arrived while Kiba and Shikamaru had been downstairs–the glint of steel winking constantly, but with every fired gun shot, another body fell–very few times was it a cop. And the noise was almost deafening–the pain-filled cries, the angry yells, and the confusing choir of orders being issued in an attempt to regroup.

Snarling, Kiba launched himself recklessly in the midst of it–each swift and precise slash of his knives taking one life after another.

Too lost was Kiba in his own hunger for retribution to even wonder how the fuck the authorities had found the gangs' most untouchable and secret place–a place that had been shielded from the cruelty of the world for so long.

Until now.

Now, blood colored the once barren floor in sickly, crimson rivulets and spattered the walls to clearly display the desperate struggles of whichever nameless, faceless gang member had fallen there–permanently marring the spot. For the very first time in over five generations, the scarlet, metalic-scented liquid tainted the interior of the gangs' Haven.

And Kiba was quite the contributor.

With a flurry of flashing steel and feral snarls, the Drake took no fewer than five lives before his own blood was spilt. Letting out a hiss of pain, Kiba whipped around, instinctively shrinking back and raising his knife defensively as he squared off with his adversary–a young man with the barrel of his pistol aimed straight between Kiba's eyes.

Clutching at the blood stain rapidly growing at his shoulder, though not registering any pain, Kiba narrowed his eyes, lip curling up in malice. The other man was a green cop if Kiba had ever seen one: the hand holding the gun was visibly trembling and his face had blanched white, eyes wide with fear.

Hesitation vanishing, Kiba lunged forward and easily buried his dagger into the young man's throat before he could even open his mouth to shout. Ripping the blade out, Kiba wheeled around, eyes flaring red with bloodlust.

Suddenly, he caught sight of Sakura being backed into a corner by two men.

Unlike the one now dead at Kiba's feet, these two were clearly veterans from the way they were sneering with obvious confidence, their trigger fingers twitching in anticipation. A surge of protectiveness instantly crashed over Kiba, who let out a growl at the sight of one of his clan mates being cornered.

Racing to Sakura's aid, Kiba just managed to hear one of the men smugly spit, "Watcha gonna do now, _bitch_?" before the Drake tackled him from behind, easily knocking the other down as well with a well aimed kick as he flew past. Kiba's blade making lethal contact with the nape of his victim's neck, a loud gunshot ended the life of the other man.

Turning his head, Kiba's eyes flashed with respect as he saw Sakura's smoking barrel–clearly smuggled in despite the "truce"–pointed unwaveringly at the now dead body. Nodding her thanks, Sakura made to vanish amidst the chaos once more.

But she froze at a familiar yell, "Drakes, regroup _now_! Fire formation!"

Both Kiba and Sakura shared a split second glance before bolting towards Tsunade's voice. Kiba wasn't sure how the Head Boss had managed to raise her voice above the deafening din of the fight, but he hardly had time to wonder as he caught sight of every Drake surging towards the source of Tsunade's voice.

As the raging, blood-hungry fire within Kiba relaxed into a heated simmer in his belly, his eyes–no longer a mindless, wild red–swiftly flitted across the familiar faces he saw, taking an almost subconscious inventory.

_Sakura, __Tenten,__ Hinata, Shino…Naruto, Lee, Gai, Kakashi, Iruka…Asuma, Ino, Choji…Sasuke…_

Noting that those he was closest to were present, though stained with blood and sporting an array of injuries, Kiba's eyes continued to roam over faces that he had no names to associate with. But they were Drakes nevertheless, so Kiba felt a part of him relax–a part he hadn't even noticed tense up with unbidden fear until it had loosened up.

As the congregation of Drakes grew, layer upon layer of bodies encircling Tsunade, those who were on the outermost edge continued to lash out at any who dared to approach the tightly-knit gang, defending those who were taking a breather in the middle.

"What now, Tsunade?" Shizune asked between gasps for air, clutching a bloody wound in her side as her eyes pinched against the pain.

Concern furrowing her brown, Tsunade knelt to examine her second-in-command as she responded, "We secure the perimeter, drive 'em out. But _no one_ dies, got it?" The blonde raised her voice at the end so each Drake heard her.

"No one dies," those nearest to her echoed back in confirmation, the order rippling throughout the Drakes until even the members on the outermost edge were muttering it.

"No one dies."

"Alright," Tsunade called out, "line the perimeter and fire on my mark!"

The effect was immediate. The tightly bunched group of gang members dispersed and slipped back into the fight as silently as shadows, as though they'd never been gone. The scattered Drakes melted out of view in a blink.

Weaving between the squirming bodies, Kiba managed to stake out a slightly sheltered spot along the far wall. Pressing his back against a stone pillar, he took a calming breath, forcing back the ever-present flame eating away at his insides, begging to be allowed to roar to life once again.

Fighting against the urge to lose control to the bloodlust, as he knew Tsunade wouldn't appreciate him breaking rank, Kiba grit his teeth, on full alert for his shot-caller's signal. Peeking around the edge of the column, Kiba's eyes soaked in the sight of countless bodies laying in crumpled heaps at the feet of those still fighting.

_But so few are gang members,_ Kiba thought grimly, noting the disconcerting number of able-bodied uniforms.

Suddenly a cry of "Drakes!" ripped through the air.

Instantaneously, a barrage of synchronized gunfire erupted. And in equal sync, scores of bodies fell–all of them belonging to the Tohoku authorities.

Kiba smirked in satisfaction. _Looks like Sakura's not the only one who brought a gun with 'em. _

Just as the members of the other gangs still engaged hand-to-hand seemed to register that only their enemies had fallen to the foreign gunfire, Tsunade yelled, "Again!" Another round fired, and scores more fell.

Now less than half of the original police force remained, giving the gangs an upper hand and renewing their fighting vigor.

Kiba caught sight of that Blue Moon girl–_Matsuri,_ he remembered–smash her fist into the skull of an of officer that had wheeled at the sound of gunfire. At the same time, there was a sudden explosion of blood as several distracted cops near a redheaded boy–Kiba supposed he looked about his own age–all collapsed at the same time. The boy stood there with an indifferent expression, blood dripping ominously from the small dagger he carried in one hand.

Not a single drop had touched him.

Suddenly, the tides had turned. The next thing Kiba knew, a man had yelled, "Fall back!"

Instinct taking over, Kiba let out a snarl as he started to pursue his now retreating prey. The beast inside him had suddenly erupted to life, roaring at the sight of its quarry escaping and scenting the fear. Eyes flashing with a feral hunger, Kiba's lip curled back threateningly as his legs began to move of their own accord.

_You're _not_ getting away…_

"Kiba! Let them go!"

Instinct as sharp as the one urging him to give chase immediately halted his movements. Kiba almost whined, casting a longing glance at the mass of officers making a beeline for the exit. As his eyes roved wistfully over their backs, the Drake accidently locked eyes with the last man–the one who had ordered the retreat and the obvious leader–as he risked a glance behind him.

Kiba almost forgot to breathe.

The young man–no older than his mid-twenties–was the spitting image of someone that Kiba knew _exceedingly_ well. The proudly arched nose, the tall, well-built stature, the confident swagger in his step even as he fled, and, most of all, the familiar confidence shining in dark, shrewd eyes.

_Well shit,_ Kiba thought to himself. _Hashimoto, you had a son. _

The eye contact lasted no longer than a heartbeat, yet so much more flashed between the two as time seemed to slow down–bottomless, nearly apathetic black meeting deep, simmering brown in an unwavering gaze. The Drake was surprised to find his own anger, thirst for vengeance, and cunning intelligence mirrored right back at him.

Kiba opened his mouth, as if to speak, but hesitated.

Then the dark, soulless eyes blinked and the spell was broken.

Kiba watched, his narrowed eyes flashing dangerously, as the only remnant of the past disappeared–slipping through his clutches and escaping death by hair. Grip tightening on his knife, the brunette bared his teeth, furious at the fact that his past seemed to haunt him wherever he went, whatever he did.

Flashing deadly fangs in a swift show of dominance, Kiba whirled around to face the carnage and destruction left in Hashimoto's wake.

Ears ringing in the sudden silence, the Drake wrinkled his nose.

Death had already began to permeate the air.

* * *

**(1) throw-up:** a type of graffiti that's more complicated than a simple tag, usually having two or three colors, but not a full-on, elaborate picture; can be done quickly and repeatedly, while still identifying the writer; usually done in bubble letters, often in one color with a differently-colored outline.

**(2) blockbuster:** used to cover maximum area in a minimal amount of time; often consisting of large block letters; accomplished with paint rollers and two or three colors of paint; usually is put up to cover up other work or block other writers from putting anything up on the same area.

**(3) stencil: **stencils are a quick and effective way to put up somewhat-complicated pieces very quickly; holding the stencil against the wall and spraying, can get detailed picture in a matter of minutes.

**(4) bombing: **to go out and graffiti the crap out of a certain place

**(5) piece:** (short for masterpiece) a graffiti painting; much more complex and having at least three colors; hard to do illegally because of the time and effort involved, so a good piece will gain a lot of respect for that particular graffiti artist.

**(6) wildstyle**:a complicated and extremely stylized form of writing that, to the untrained eye, is not easy to read; features arrows, spikes, curves and other elements that non-graffiti artists may have a hard time understanding; often 3D and considered to be one of the most complicated forms of graffiti.

**(7) heaven:**a piece that's put up in a very hard-to-reach location; because they're so dangerous and difficult to reach, graffiti artists who manage to get a piece up in such a spot will usually gain some added respect from their peers.

**FYI, I got all of the names of this type of graffit from: /2009/09/24/graffiti-designs-styles-tagging-bombin g-painting/**

**Okay, this chapter sure was a bitch to write. Also, by the time I wrote the second half of it, I was (and still am) hooked on Break To Breathe by Okami Rayne. It's a Shikamaru/Neji fic, so thank her for the slight Shikamaru-centric-ness of this chapter. It also inspired me to take my time w/my writing, thus the excessive descriptions and literary devices.**

**Also, I wanna know how you guys feel about the changes to my writing, so review please? **


	9. Zenith

**AN: Gahhh, sorry for the delay! What has it been, two weeks? Ugh Dx Oh well, at least I actually made this chapter pretty damn long, so I don't feel _too_ terrible (plus, it was a bitch to edit; so you can take some small comfort in that xD). Anyways, to clear up: the gangs are located in Old Tohoku, while the city of New Tohoku is where everyone else lives (cops, civilians, etc.). **

**Oh, and the italics are flashbacks/memories :] That's all, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto**

* * *

Names, dates, and pictures flashed before exhausted brown eyes until the numbers and letters all began to run together, blurring into one giant black mass that did nothing to ease the raging headache pounding into Tsunade's head. Closing her eyes, the weary Head Boss placed her index fingers on either temple, rubbing slightly to alleviate some of the pain.

Taking a deep breath, the blonde steeled herself once again to stare intently at the scattered records strewn out before her, the source of her migraine. But Tsunade wasn't even sure _why_ she was still rereading the detailed information she had memorized literally hours ago–when she had first realized that not every Drake had returned from the disastrous universal.

Chocolate eyes instantly narrowed at the thought, glinting with a dangerous light.

Tsunade was still unsure if the attack had been the authorities working solo–though she highly doubted it–or if one or more of the other gangs had something to do with it. Seeing as it was nearly impossible for the Tohoku police to have found Haven on their own, Tsunade had instantly pinned her suspicions on the other gangs.

Her teeth gnashed at the thought, lip curling up in disgust.

_But that's not my main priority,_ Tsunade reprimanded herself suddenly. _I first need to find out what happened__…_

It had been less than 4 hours since the Drakes had returned from Haven, and only a couple since everyone's wounds had been seen to and treated. After ensuring that no one was in critical condition, Sakura brought to Tsunade's attention that someone was missing, instantly kicking the protective mindset of the Drakes' leader into overdrive.

After that, the shot-caller had immediately sent word to Shizune–who was acting as the Drakes' delegate back at Haven, where the other four gangs were tallying the mounting death toll–of the Drake who'd gone MIA. Tsunade knew her worry was unjustified, as she was yet to receive the results of the gang-wide investigation, but she couldn't help the racing of her mind anyways.

It'd been a long time since the Drakes had lost lives, and Tsunade wasn't about to start now.

Gaze straying to the profile sitting prominently on top of all the other papers–their content a constant reminder to Tsunade that she'd failed her gang, her family–the Boss felt the angry tension melt away into a soft concern.

_When I said no one dies, I also meant that no one disappears…_

Slender fingers more used to holding a beer bottle than a pistol wandered to the top of one of the profiles, tracing the name of its personnel: HYUUGA, NEJI.

* * *

_Rough, calloused fingers traced the ridges and contours tattooed across the slender forearms in a decidedly gentle way. Outlining the multitude of scars–each with their own story–lacerating Kiba's wrists, forearms, and hands, Kankuro's fingers were caught up in a strangely hypnotic dance of skin-on-skin contact, wandering from cut to cut before meandering on the smooth skin in between._

_The foreign insignias and runes carved into the Drake's skin grew more and more familiar with each repeated stroke of his fingers, and Kankuro hummed his pleasure._

_Leaning back comfortably into the broad chest of the Blue Moon, Kiba lazily observed Kankuro's movements, eyes half-lidded in content. Arms limp in the older boy's light grasp, Kiba allowed his eyes to flutter shut at the soft vibrations of Kankuro's chest against his back._

_A slight breeze stirred the silence as Kankuro thumbed a particularly long scar, murmuring, "What's this one from?"_

_One eye flittering open, Kiba gazed at the long, crescent-shaped mar on his skin that slashed horizontally across the width of his forearm. It was an old cicatrix, but one that Kiba was unlikely to forget._

_"Practicing with my knives. Was m'first, actually. Kind of a stupid slip up, now that I think 'bout it." The small smile that accompanied the story went unseen by Kankuro as Kiba's eyes grew unfocused at the old memory._

_Kankuro nodded, settling his chin on Kiba's shoulder to tap another, smaller mark that rested on the side of the Drake's wrist, cutting straight across the distinct jut of Kiba's wrist bone._

_"That one hurt like a bitch," Kiba reminisced as he leaned his head into Kankuro's temple affectionately and allowing his eyelids to slip shut. In his mind's eye, Kiba once again saw the twisting slice of the blade as it bit through skin as a result of his hands not being quick enough to catch it._

_He almost grinned at the thought; it had literally been years since his last novice mistake like that. After all, Kiba was a quick learner._

_"S'not fair that you don't have scars," the younger brunette pouted, pulling his arms away and attempting to cover the blemishes with his hands._

_"Maybe not as many as you," Kankuro admitted, fingers creeping along the Drake's arm to coax him from his sudden streak of self-consciousness. "But y'don't grow up in a gang without earning some."_

_"Show me," demanded Kiba, crossing his arms stubbornly to thwart Kankuro's efforts._

_"S'too cold." Kankuro waved off the suggestion by continuing to pull at the younger boy's arms until he reluctantly gave in. Pleased, Kankuro continued to explore the ridges and bumps that made their home on Kiba's skin._

_"Pfft, stop being such a fuckin' baby," Kiba teased, playfully nudging the Blue Moon._

_"Ass," Kankuro muttered half-heartedly, grinning as he felt Kiba's smile against his neck._

_"Yeah, I know you love it," Kiba smirked, laying a trail of butterfly kisses along Kankuro's neck and up his jaw._

_Kankuro snorted, but didn't deny it. Releasing Kiba's arms, he hugged the Drake closer, absolutely relishing their closeness. _

_At first Kankuro had thought that he had just been in it for the sex. After all, Kiba was by no means bad looking. In fact, the younger boy was fucking sexy. __But after their initial attraction, the Blue Moon found that there was a different kind of addiction that had him returning to Kiba again and again._

_And that was the addiction to moments like these._

_Where the borders between gangs, lines that Kankuro had been raised to never question or cross, were blurred and forgotten. Where Kankuro could just sit there, hold Kiba, and not say a word, and nothing would be wrong. There would be no gunfire or shouts of pain as yet another life bled out on the broken streets._

_It would just be the two of them._

_With Kiba, Kankuro could forget every trouble and worry that normally haunted his clouded thoughts. Simply put, it was a short-lived bliss that he would not have given up for anything in the world._

_Feeling Kankuro's arms tightening ever so slightly around him, Kiba let out a soft breath, relaxing into the touch. The Drake had long since grown used to the older boy's occasional possessive moments, and honestly had no problem with it._

_Why should he? It'd been such a long time since Kiba had felt _wanted_ like this._

_And it felt fucking good._

_They stayed like that for a bit, both caught up in their own personal introspection. Until Kiba's eyelids began to droop again, his breath deepening–calm and trusting. To fall asleep in the presence of another person who was neither kin nor part of his own gang was the ultimate sign of trust. At least, as far as the gangs were concerned. If someone just went so far as to let their guard down around the wrong crowd, they'd be dead in an instant. _

_Ergo, Kankuro felt a gratifying warmth as well as affection for the younger boy seeping from his chest. _

_Suddenly, something caught Kankuro's eye. Gaze locking on to it, he gently shifted Kiba in his arms, mindful of not waking the half-asleep brunette, to flash a scrutinizing glance at the strange scar that stood out from the others. It was not a slash or a cut, rather it was a small mark that looked almost like…_

Teeth marks? Like a bite,_ Kankuro mused, brow furrowing in slight concern. Carefully turning Kiba's wrist over in his hands, Kankuro's eyes narrowed at the sight of the small dents dusting the Drake's skin in a way that looked strikingly canine. Now that he looked closer, Kankuro noted that the bite marks were littered distinctly across Kiba's skin._

What the…?

_Kankuro continued to silently appraise the strange marks before reluctantly lowering Kiba's arm. Brushing feather-light touches up and down the younger boy's arm, Kankuro let out a soft contemplating sigh, not quite understanding what his eyes were seeing. His lips lightly grazed the sleeping Drake's temple._

_Though barely conscious through his drowsing state, Kiba didn't miss the odd poignancy of the gesture. He also didn't miss the fearful tightening of his gut._

_The act was so out of character of the gruff Blue Moon that the brunette instantly knew something was up; and frankly, it was offsetting. The last time someone had acted strangely…_

No, don't think about that._ Kiba clenched his eyes shut, his breath quivering. Trying desperately to calm his shaking breaths, he didn't notice Kankuro's slightly vacant demeanor snap to attention at the shuddering Drake in his arms. Wordlessly, Kankuro tucked Kiba's head under his chin, humming quietly as he rubbed small, comforting circles with his thumbs on Kiba's wrists._

_The quaking stopped._

_"…Don't leave." _

_Kankuro almost balked in surprise at the soft, nearly inaudible words. Glancing down at Kiba, he saw the brunette's eye weren't even open. Figuring Kiba probably hadn't even realized what he'd said, Kankuro quietly hummed his wordless response._

I won't.

* * *

Kiba jerked awake, vaulting forward into a sitting position as his eyes few open and his mouth parted in a sharp gasp. Instantly biting back the urge to cry out the name tingling on his lips, Kiba shivered as the sheen of sweat coating his skin chilled against the abrupt breeze. The tensed hands and blanched knuckles fisting the blankets shook violently in tandem of the roaring blood in his ears.

Gazing unseeingly at the sheets pooled at his waist, the brunette took a few moments to gather his bearings–waiting for his racing and irregular pulse to settle and for his mind to stop roaring. Once his erratic breathing had somewhat calmed, Kiba blinked and glanced up. Moonlight easily filtered through the numerous gaps in the weak patchwork of slats that made up the roof over Kiba's head.

With the breeze whispering temptingly in his ears, Kiba abruptly shoved the rest of is covers off to swing his legs over the side of his bed. Slipping on his shoes and shrugging on a hoodie to combat the cold, the brunette braced his foot on the sill of the sole window his room afforded him.

Glancing down before tensing for a split second, Kiba jumped.

Landing and instantly rolling to break his fall, the brunette sprang up with unnerving animalistic grace on the protruding cover over a first floor window of the Drake's base. The drop had been short, only about ten feet, and Kiba easily leapt the remaining several feet to the ground.

Straightening up and dusting himself off, the newest Drake proceeded to amble aimlessly through the shadowed labyrinth of abandoned buildings and broken memories that he now called home.

* * *

Sharp slashes of shadow and moonshine cut across the looming warehouses to paint them an enigmatic combination of black and white. The contrast burned brilliantly–the light seemed brighter than the sun's own rays while the inky shadows seemed to be a bottomless abyss that could swallow someone whole. The bi-polar buildings seemed to leer in daringly, urging him on.

Kiba blinked.

Where most people might have seen the ruins and ghosts of a broken and worthless town, Kiba saw a goldmine of precious moments and milestones that marked out his time with the Drakes–and Kankuro.

Glancing at the worn and cracked plaster and concrete of an aging highschool, the brunette's eyes glazed over sightlessly, haunted by the sound of Kankuro's laugh echoing through the deepest recesses of his mind. Kiba remembered when Kankuro had first taken him there on the pretense of showing him around the gangs' turf, his new home.

The tour had been going just fine until Kiba had turned around and the older boy had inexplicably disappeared.

_"Kankuro?" _

_Silence. The quiet pressed against his eardrums, deafening him to any sounds except that of his heartbeat picking up. Suddenly a shadow flitted in the edge of his vision._

_"Fucking prick," Kiba muttered, turning towards where he'd seen it and completely ignoring the strained relief seeping through his voice. His butterfly of a pulse seemed to relax just a bit._

_Turning the corner, the brunette was met with…nothing. Just more silence. Anxiety began to gnaw more insistently within his gut, borderlining fear. "K?" _

_A soft tapping sound had Kiba turning another circle, trying to discern the source. Was it just him, or were the shadows moving? Eyes wide, Kiba stared at the shivering mass of black manifesting into a God-awful something he didn't want to stick around to find out. _

_Whirling around, Kiba raced down the hallway, pure panic firing into his bloodstream and pumping throughout his body. Adrenaline thundered through his ears, drowning out the sound of his harsh pants and rapid footfalls. _

_Suddenly a sound ripped through the roar in his ears: another set of feet running through the building._

_By this time, all of Kiba's senses were distorting–his ears were ringing while his gaze blurred and the entire world spun in circles. Pure, raw panic bubbled inside of him as primitive instinct drove his legs to move faster to escape that which was chasing him, hunting him down. _

_A ring of white encircled Kiba's dilated pupils, his eyes wide with unbridled terror as beads of sweat chased each other across his skin. _

_Whipping around a corner, Kiba's momentum came to a crashing halt as he slammed headfirst into something. Flung backward from the impact, Kiba hit the ground hard, but instantly rolled into a crouch, snarling his defiance–terror barely reigned in. Then his narrowed eyes widened at the person who'd he collided with._

_Kankuro?_

_The older boy's lips were moving slowly but no noise was coming out. Slowly, the Blue Moon got up and cautiously walked towards Kiba, hand outstretched and his lips still murmuring something that Kiba couldn't hear above the buzz in his ears and surge of adrenaline coloring his blood. Instinct caused Kiba to shrink back, lip curled. _

_Kankuro froze, but his mouth continued to move._

_The pause gave Kiba's body time to adjust. The boil in his blood lessened to a mere simmer and his hearing was returned. Gradually, Kiba began to recognize the words leaving the older boy's mouth._

_"…iba, it's o…'s alri…now…I'm here…kay?" _

_As Kiba's pupils began to return to their normal size and his erratic breathing began to even out, he blinked. _

_"Kiba?" Kankuro began to slowly approach again, relief flooding him when the younger boy didn't retreat._

_But Kiba was trembling so bad that he wasn't sure he could've moved if he'd wanted. His body was crashing hard after the raging inferno of adrenaline. Struggling to stand, his straining muscles failed as his legs buckled. Kiba's exhausted brown eyes fluttered as he awaited the impact. _

_It never came._

_Instead, his fall was cushioned by a warm, breathing something. _

_"Gotcha," Kankuro grunted, hefting the Drake's deadweight into a more comfortable position. _

_Gently maneuvering so as to sit, Kankuro settled Kiba's quivering form in his lap. Instantly, the younger boy curled up, clutching the front of Kankuro's shirt in his shaking grip, and buried his face in the Blue Moon's chest. __Jagged breaths fell heavily onto the older boy's sternum as Kiba clenched his eyes shut, shuddering uncontrollably. _

_The unadulterated panic that had swept ruthlessly through Kiba's system seconds ago was now engulfed by a yawning black hole of fear at how quickly he had panicked. The old anxiety was back, tightening its slack grip around the brunette's heaving chest. _

_"Shh," soothed Kankuro, wrapping one arm around Kiba's waist while a hand ran through the Drake's hair in comforting strokes._

_"Don't leave me," Kiba whispered, traces of his previous terror still seeping into his broken voice. "Please…"_

_A frown twitched at the corner of Kankuro's mouth. Not for the first time was the Blue Moon itching to find out more about Kiba's past, about what had caused such an extreme reaction. Kankuro knew he'd only been gone for a minute or two, yet Kiba had experienced a full-blown panic attack. _

What happened to you?

_"I wont, pup," he promised, feeling in his chest the weight of those words. He knew that vow would make or break the trust he had with Kiba. If he ever went back on it, he would shatter the younger boy–and Kankuro wasn't sure if he'd be able to pick up the pieces. _

_Kiba's shivering lessened to an occasional tremor every now and then as Kankuro continued to pull his fingers through Kiba's shaggy hair. The hand of the arm banded around the Drake's waist continued to rub small, calming circles on one of the younger boy's hips. _

_Gradually, Kankuro felt the pounding of Kiba's heart ease up, felt his breath deepen until he was nearly asleep–his body's reaction to such extremes in such a short amount of time. _

_Only then did Kankuro dare to move despite the loss of feeling in his legs. He wasn't risking Kiba erupting into another panicked fight-or-flight mode for anything. _

_His brow furrowed as the dark, worrying thought crept into his mind yet again: What happened to you, Kiba?_

Kiba sighed. He didn't recall much from that day after losing sight of Kankuro. His brain had completely shut down, and hadn't remember anything even when the Blue Moon had interrogated him later on.

Kiba frowned at the thought of the strange look on Kankuro's face when he'd admitted to his memory drawing a large blank. It was like a mix between concern, surprise, and something darker. Kiba decided he didn't like that combination.

Shaking his head and moving on, Kiba was paralyzed on the spot by a sudden voice.

"Thought it was a nice night for a walk too, huh?"

_That voice,_ Kiba thought, with a grim smile, _it's just like his father's. _

Instinctively pulling up his old mask of haughty arrogance to hide his broken past behind, Kiba lifted his chin to call out to the inky darkness cloaking the central plaza he was standing in. "Yeah. Got a fucking problem?"

Through the gloom, a figure manifested itself before Kiba, who stood in a casual, lopsided slouch. Kazuo Hashimoto sneered at the teen. "You sure don't look as big and bad as Dad always made you sound."

The corner of Kiba's mouth twitched up to expose sharp canine-like fangs as his eyes glinted dangerously. "Don't believe everything your daddy tells you. Some dogs have a bite worse than their bark."

"And that's all you are," the twenty-something-year old Hashimoto taunted. "A _dog_."

"Like the one you've got hiding over there?" Kiba jerked his head in the direction of a small alleyway hidden away in the corner of the plaza.

"I'm impressed you noticed him," said Kazuo, letting out a whistle. On cue, a massive snowy hound came trotting obediently to meet its master. Settling at the officer's feet, a bushy white tail curled neatly over nimble paws as Kazuo's hand ruffled its head affectionately.

"What can I say? I've got a way with animals." Kiba almost smiled as he cocked his head. Curiously, he let out a low whistle, identical to the one Kazuo had just emitted.

Immediately the canine padded over. Offering a hand, a wet nose snuffled it experimentally before Kiba stroked the dog's floppy ears, grinning. "Good boy."

"Akamaru," Kazuo supplied, snapping his fingers. The sharp noise had Akamaru returning without hesitation.

"He's just like his previous owner," Kiba said lightly.

The officer stiffened at the slanted comment. "How did you–"

"He recognized me," Kiba replied, cutting him off. "He didn't seem that interested in me, as if he'd scented me before. Must've gotten a whiff of me before from your father. 'Sides, he acts exactly like him–pristine, perfect, and proper. It only makes sense Hashimoto was the one to train him. I'm guessing you just inherited him."

Kazuo made no movement throughout the entire explanation, but Kiba caught the faintest pursing of his lips. His dark eyes swam with an emotion Kiba couldn't make out in the dark.

"So what the hell you doin' here anyways?" Kiba drawled lazily, eyes half-lidded in feigned disinterest.

"What, not worried I'm going to kill you?" scoffed Kazuo with a crooked smile.

"Naw, if you were gonna do that, you woulda done it already," shrugged Kiba, arching an eyebrow. "So seriously, why the fuck are you here? Last time I checked officers weren't s'posed to pursue outside of New Tohoku's boundaries. Ain't that how you're dad died? Gotta say, people 'round here aren't as merciful as I am."

The memory of how he'd first gotten tangled with the gangs flashed through his mind, and Kiba almost smirked in amusement despite the bittersweet pang accompanying it.

"Guess you could say I dropped by to say hello," Kazuo responded cooly. "And to see for myself the guy who killed my father." With that, the oddly warm, almost friendly, light in the younger Hashimoto's gaze iced over.

"Well you've seen me, so you can go now," said Kiba dryly as he slipped one hand into his jeans pocket. The casual gesture wasn't missed by Kazuo, whose eyes flashed with just the barest traces of wariness.

Kiba almost grinned. There _was_ no hidden ulterior motive for having done that; he was simply cold. It was funny to see the cop read so far into the simple move.

"And what if I wanted to stick around for a bit?" Kazuo raised one eybrow, the lightly worded challenge rolling off his tongue.

"Then I'd tell you that you'd die just like Hashimoto," was Kiba's short response. "So really, get the fuck out." A long blade slid from his sleeve into his hand, silver flashing in dangerous warning. "I'd rather not have to wash your blood off later."

Kazuo smirked, "Cocky as always, aren't you? But fine, since I'll definitely be seeing you later."

Kiba's bored demeanor didn't waver as the the older male spun on his heel to be swallowed by the darkness of a yawning alleyway. Akamaru compliantly followed suit, casting a happy-go-lucky, tongue-lolling glance at Kiba before bounding after his owner. The waving flag of his white tail seemed to be saluting Kiba good-bye as the dog vanished.

As soon as the two were gone, Kiba's face melted into its previous exhausted expression, worry for Kankuro returning full force. His eyes, now half-lidded in tiredness rather than faked boredom, blinked slowly as he surveyed the now empty plaza.

A swift breeze nipped a reminder and Kiba shivered.

Running a hand through his thick hair, as if he could wipe away the fatigue eating away at him, Kiba tipped his head back to gaze at the moon. The familiar milky light bathed his face, cleansing it of its pained look for just a moment.

Basking in it, dark brown eyes glazed over as they set their sights on the only thing that had ever remained the same in the 15 year-old's short life.

It was the only constant in Kiba had ever known. Some nights even the stars refused to shine, yet the moon had always been there–forever dutifully illuminating the dark world beneath. For Kiba, it was his anchor to life as everything else continued to change, and leave, and move on. People included.

They always left him behind.

But not the moon.

Closing his eyes, the brunette allowed himself the luxury of the moon's ethereal touch for a few moments more before deciding to head back. Little did he know that another pair of intelligent brown eyes were watching his every move.

Then, the shadows shifted suddenly, as if by an otherworldly force, causing ivory beams of light to banish the shadows and reveal the distinctive blue diamond tattoo. As swiftly as it had been bared to the night, the small mark retreated back into its inky cloak of blackness…a split second too late.

His own brown eyes gleaming, Kiba turned away, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.

* * *

**AN: So, comments, criticism, compliments? Any are fine, but I just realized that I haven't yet thanked my readers and reviewers. So here goes: **

**THANK YOU GUYS SO FREAKING MUCH. ****I know I haven't replied to your guys' reviews, but I've been kinda busy, so I'm sorry. But I love all you, never forget that! Seriously, every time I get a review or a favorite/follow, it makes my day :] It reminds me that I'm not just writing to myself and that I have lovely followers who are extremely patient with me and my super slow updates (sorry again!)**

**Anyways, review please? :3 **


	10. Rogue

**AN: God, it's almost been a month since the last update, hasn't it? So sorry about that; damn, I terrible at this writing stuff :/ Anyways, it's time for us to catch up w/our lovely Kankuro and see what's been happening to him during all this. ****Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. **

* * *

Darkness, black and suffocating, was pressing against Kankuro on all sides. It had been for so long that light was but a mere memory, slipping through his outstretched fingers like sand. The thick, inky shadows almost seemed more real than the heavy metal cuffs adorning the Blue Moon's numb wrists, the shackles having chafed until the split skin turned raw and red.

Harsh, shallow pants were ripped in jagged intervals from his chest, the only noise the otherwise silent room. The clamoring sound jangling chains had long since ceased as fatigue and exhaustion took over the Kankuro's body. Throat hoarse and sore from vocalizing his defiance, he had finally slumped against the wall, legs pulled up and head bowed as he draped his arms over bent knees, the metal links weighing heavily.

Seemingly a final act of submission.

But in reality, the Blue Moon's mind was racing a mile a minute, as it had been doing since he'd woken up in the unfamiliar room. How long had it been? An hour? A day? A week?

_No, not a week,_ Kankuro assured himself hazily, eyes blinking in vain against the dark shroud blinding him. _A couple days tops. There's no way…_

Giving his right shoulder an experimental shrug, he winced at the sharp jolt of pain that shot through it. Yeah, definitely only a day or two. When he'd first come around, the Blue Moon found an unpleasant surprise waiting for him in the form of a dislocated shoulder. With teeth grit against the pain, Kankuro had been forced to set it back into place himself.

He winced at the memory and his shoulder throbbed as if in agreement.

Suddenly the rough, screeching of metal assaulted his ears–painfully sensitive after literally hours of silence. Cringing, Kankuro tensed and instinctively reached for his gun, cursing when he found it wasn't there. _They'd_ taken his weapons, of course, and the loss of the Black Ant had hit him hard.

It had been his for so long that it was an extension of his body more than anything else. To be parted with it had left Kankuro feeling strangely lopsided and unbalanced–empty even. As if he'd been robbed of more than just a hunk of metal, which, to be honest, he had been.

When harsh yellow light lanced unexpectedly from a crack in the opposite wall, Kankuro shrank away from it, delicate eyes narrowing in protest as the resounding clink of chains echoed throughout the room, giving away his retreat.

As the heavy door continued to slowly open, flooding the dreary prison cell with dank illumination, Kankuro prepared himself for a cop, steeling himself to take whatever they had in mind; torture, interrogation, anything.

However, the fight was abruptly knocked out of him while his brain seemed to short-circuit when the Blue Moon saw just who was silhouetted against the bright doorway: one of the last people he had expected.

Fuck, why the hell should he have expected a gang member?

* * *

Sunlit particles lazily drifted to and fro, feigning a calm and safe ambience. But hidden within the recesses of the deep shadows thrown along the walls was the permanent evidence stained into Haven's legacy.

The violent crimson had faded into a mundane maroon throb, but no Tohoku gang member would ever forget the blood that had been shed–shed on the one site that they'd agreed the sinful liquid would _never_ touch. The blood smeared across the hallowed walls was wound that every gang member shared.

It had the gangs agitated and restless, eager blood boiling for vengeance on whomever had been involved with the ambush on Haven. But any solid proof had yet to convict a single gang or person, leaving everyone with no choice but to simmer on a dangerously high level of tension.

The air was heavy with it as thorough investigations continued to yield naught but more dead bodies, completely bare of any clues or hints as to who was to blame. And that only heightened the mounting discord, threatening to snap at any given moment.

However, Haven seemed to be the eye of the storm.

While fury and hunger for revenge brewed threateningly outside, within its walls a dreadfully serene and mournful air had stolen over the sacred place–as though it was holding its breath as the gangs struggled to right the tangled mess they'd been left in.

It was this foreboding tranquility that Kiba suddenly felt himself wrapped in as he set foot in Haven a couple days after Haven's Assault, as the gangs were now referring to it as.

But time seemed to be in no hurry to erase the scars.

The metallic tang of blood still migled with the heavy musk of death tainting the air. It was if the place itself was reminding the gangs of what horrors had arisen from the attack–drilling it permanently into their heads and history so such a fatal mistake would not be repeated.

_It won't,_ Kiba thought to himself, sharp eyes taking in the dried blood and nose wrinkling at the obvious stench of sweat and fear. Gaze flicking to the graffitied walls, his chest gave a painful tug at the age-old art marred with death-infused streaks of scarlet, blurring and obscuring the Tohoku gangs' pride and joy.

Eyes clenched shut, the 15 year-old grit sharp teeth as the familiar rage sought to wrest control from him. The heady burning sensation began to sweep across Kiba's senses, numbing them into a red mist lurking on the edges of his fogging vision. No, that could not be allowed to happen twice.

A soft, indistinct murmuring abruptly cut through the growing haze of anger, dousing it with recognition.

_That sounds like…_

"Crazy shit went down that night. I swear, was summa the worst this place's seen. But I guess y'woulda jus' called it 'troublesome.'" A watery chuckle accompanied the quiet words.

"I bet you'd be laughin' y're ass off at how weak m'being now, but–" the voice cracked, a choked sob breaking through. "S'just so hard t'lose you right after Asuma-sensei. Never thought it'd hurt this much. Why did it have to be you? It's not fair!"

Following the voice down the stairwell Shikamaru had dragged Kiba down so eagerly before, he cocked his head in curiosity. As far as he knew, no official patrol had been sent here, so that meant–

The sharp click of the pistol ripped through the silence and Kiba's silent evaluation was cut short as time seemed to stand still.

Kiba instantly froze at the foot of the stairs, hands raised unthreateningly. From the shadows lurking in the basement-like room stepped Ino–long flaxen hair cascading down to protectively shield half of her face. But the eye bared to the world was glittering in cold, unmistakable fury despite the wet tracks glistening on her cheek.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" The pistol aimed at Kiba's head never wavered, neither did her voice.

"I didn't mean to intrude," Kiba began slowly, picking his words with caution. It was clear as day that Ino was shaken by Shikamaru's death, and Kiba knew firsthand how dangerous unstable and impulsive emotions could be.

And just how permanent their consequences were.

His explanation was interrupted by the harsh, grating laugh Ino barked out, her entire frame shaking with mirth. An ugly smile twisted its way to her lips.

"Of course you don't," she sneered. "No one ever _means_ anything, it _just happens,_ right? Yet, somehow, one of my best friends _just happens_ to be lying here dead because of it!"

Kiba cringed inwardly at the raw truth behind the blonde's words, a truth that no amount of word-twisting or euphemisms could hide.

"You think I don't know that?" Kiba murmured, a poignant sheen hardening his gaze. " You think I don't hurt too? Maybe I ask myself every. Single. Fucking. Day if things could have been different."

"I hate you so much." Cold, unforgiving blue eyes roved over Kiba, hatred and disgust brightening the sapphire gaze. "So fucking much." The iron grip on the pistol tightened and Kiba's eyes narrowed, lip curling slightly as he prepared to leap out of the line of fire at the next sign Ino was going to pull the trigger.

Death was _not_ an option.

"But I can't kill you." Self-flagellation welled up in the blonde's voice as her face contorted in pain–confusion and hurt adding to the growing storm of emotions spiraling out of control and permeating the very air.

Kiba could hardly bite back the surprised look threatening to overtake his expression as his eyes now widened at the capricious turn of events.

"Because he saved you…but I can't fucking figure out why." Kiba almost winced at the raw emotion causing Ino's voice to tremble with bitter disgust at her weakness, at the fact that she couldn't bring herself to kill the person who had caused Shikamaru's death.

Soon the LRG's body was once again shaking, but this time with sobs as words continued to tumble unchecked from her treacherous mouth. "You took him away from us, and I can't ever forgive you for that."

The blond lowered her broken gaze and closed her eyes, tears continuing to soak the eyelashes fanned against her cheeks. "But you meant something to him, so I can't kill you either. Shikamaru wouldn't want that, so I guess we're at a stalemate."

Her lips quirked up slightly at the cruel, twisted irony trapping her–holding her at a deadlock and catching her in an impossible limbo. There were two roads, but both were equally impossible to take. So here she was now, at the crossroads with no idea what to do, lost and confused with no one to guide her. So she did the only thing she could.

"Leave."

She backed away and chose _not_ to choose.

Kiba didn't need to be told twice. Immediately whirling around, he beat a hasty retreat back up the safety of the stairs to the main floor of Haven. As he reached the top, the 15 year-old's keen ears pricked at the sound of Ino's soft whispering starting up again, explaining to Shikamaru the terrible act she'd just committed: attempting to kill a fellow gang member.

Casting a backwards glance down the dark staircase, Kiba felt his chest ache fiercely for the lost little girl hiding behind her fractured mask as she continued to spill her heart out to the only person who would listen.

But Kiba could relate; sometimes the dead seemed more real than the living.

With his conscience screaming at him to get his ass back down there and fix his fuck up, to right the wrong he'd caused, Kiba hesitated. But his mind was already assuring him there was nothing more to be done.

The kind of hurt Ino was suffering from wasn't something a simple "I'm sorry" could magically mend.

No, it would take far more than that. It would take blood, sweat, and tears for the scales to be balanced again. But by then, something else will have already tipped it.

Of that, Kiba was sure. Because that was how the world worked.

Torn between a war of mind and conscience, Kiba wavered, eyes pinched in indecision as his head battled it out. Then his heart gave a painful twinge, reminding Kiba of what he now had to live for.

_Kankuro…_

Instantly the doubt vanished, leaving Kiba nothing left but to turn and leave Haven, allowing Ino the alone time she so desperately craved with the only person she had ever considered betraying her gang for.

He didn't look back, instead Kiba chose to focus on his mission to find the only person _he_ would ever turn his back on the Drakes for, the only person who had ever managed to get close enough to sneak into his closely guarded heart.

Which, truth be told, was a mystery in itself.

* * *

"Why are you doing this?"

Kankuro's raspy query seemed to pass right over the head of the proud, stoic Neji Hyuuga. His sharply angled and apathetic features were as warm as the opaline eyes that seemed to stare straight through the Blue Moon.

"Tell me why!" Kankuro snarled as he surged forward, radiating the intent to kill in copious amounts.

A sharp crack echoed in the half-lit room as the Blue Moon's chains snapped to their fullest length, silence blooming in its wake. Leaning forward as far as his tether would allow until his arms were forced behind him,the angered brunette's eyes blazed as he completely ignored the fire racing up and down his shoulder.

Straining at his taut bindings with his face scant inches from the Hyuuga's, Kankuro bared his teeth in while his fury manifested itself as a wordless growl.

The Drake hadn't moved a muscle despite the intimidating attempted assault. A calm, cold aura shrouded Neji indelibly, shielding him from the fiery hatred exuding from Kankuro as he gazed with empty, unseeing eyes at the Blue Moon. He offered no answer, just continued to stare at the chained gang member with what Kankuro saw as a patronizing gaze.

But in reality, the Hyuuga was reminded forcibly of a conversation he hadn't had so long ago with someone he _also_ never would've thought he'd _ever_ fraternize with.

_"Why are you doing this?"_

_Neji raised one eyebrow at the query, allowing surprise to ghost across his smooth expression to entertain the man now gazing curiously at him. Keeping his eyes hard as opals, the Drake responded, "Why do you care? I'm offering you invaluable information into one of the Tohoku Gangs for next to nothing. Why would you question it? You will never get a chance like this ever again, I assure you."_

_"That's exactly why," Kazuo answered simply, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin thoughtfully on them, the half-light playing ambivalently across his sharp features. "I've heard it's taboo to betray your clan like this. So why throw your life away just for the sake of some girl? It doesn't even sound like you like her much." _

_Wiping his face clean of all emotions that might reveal any of his carefully hidden secrets, Neji said, "Because I must."_

_Kazuo raised one eyebrow at the vague answer, clearly very meaningful on some deeper level. But once he saw the boy was going to reveal nothing more, the police captain gave a tiny nod and replied, "Very well. You're in." _

_Inclining his chin just enough to show he'd heard, the Hyuuga turned and left, disgust etched across every contour of his face–at what he'd just condemned himself to, at himself for being so weak, at everything._

_Breaking into a run, the lithe brunette easily snaked his way through the tightly woven buildings of New Tohoku before scaling an apartment building to escape the crowded ground streets below. Never breaking stride, the now ex-Drake easily leapt the small gaps between rooftops as he sought out the safe, familiar warehouses of Old Tohoku._

_Once the his home came into view, Neji sped up, adrenaline searing his veins as if to burn away the illicit evil he had committed prior. Reaching the no man's land between the city and the gangs' territory, Neji __ took a flying leap of the edge of a condominium that marked the outskirts of the New Tohoku before effortlessly tucking into a roll to break the impact. _

___Jumping up, Neji continued his race to the base, panting slightly as the abandoned, spectral structures that made up the small gap between New and Old Tohoku flew by in a blur. As his feet began to recognize the earth beneath them, the ex-Drake pushed harder, arriving at the old church just in time to see Shikamaru, Ino, and Choji leading a stranger into the base. _

___Just before the foreigner was swallowed by the shadows looming in the grand doorway, Neji caught a brief flash of crimson as the teen turned to glance in the direction of the ex-Drake. Instinctively slinking back into the shadows to conceal himself, Neji deepened his breaths to ease his heartbeat, eyes narrowed in close examination at the scarlet ____tattoos adorning the bronze cheeks ____below oddly animalistic eyes._

___________The boy looked almost…canine. _

___________Kiba blinked once before shrugging off the feeling someone was watching him and entering the Drakes' base for the first time._

_Funny how life does that to you,_ Neji mused to himself. Keeping his lips sealed, the ex-Drake continued to study the enraged Blue Moon before him, as though staring hard enough would give him the answers he was seeking. However, enlightenment continued to avoid the Hyuuga.

Why had Kazuo insisted the person before him held the key to avenging Hashimoto and, indirectly, getting Neji what he wanted?

"It doesn't make sense," Kankuro whispered, falling to his knees and narrowing his eyes as his short-lived rage drained away. The gears in his head turned frantically to put together a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

_No, it doesn't,_ Neji agreed silently. Deciding standing there was accomplishing nothing with what limited time he had left, the Hyuuga turned his back on Kankuro, fully prepared to leave without saying a single word.

"Why would you throw it all away?" Head lowered so shaggy bangs shielded his face, Kankuro closed his eyes as sheer exhaustion overwhelmed his senses.

His chest ached.

Suddenly nimble fingers cupped the Blue Moon's chin and gently tipped his head up to gaze startled into deep, cloudy orbs. Almost nose to nose, Neji inspected him once again, eyes now shining with an emotion Kankuro couldn't quite place. It was that mysterious light in the Hyuuga's eyes that stopped Kankuro from instantly pulling away from the foreign touch.

Finally, Neji murmured, "Because I had nothing to begin with."

Then he stood and left, leaving a completely nonplussed Kankuro to ponder the strangely ominous response in the dark.

* * *

**Hopefully that answered some questions…or maybe just gave you more? IDK, lolz. Thanks again for reading :3 ****Review please? **


	11. Masked

**Ugh, how long has it been since I've update? A month? Jeez, I'm lazy -_-' Sorry, anyways, this chapter's kind of longish, so hopefully y'all forgive me (if anyone's even reading this still lolz). Anyways, enjoy!**

* * *

"Lady Tsunade! Shizune!"

The busty blonde and the slighter, darker-haired woman she'd been speaking with instantly snapped their gaze to the entrance of the Drakes' base where a disheveled, panting Haruno Sakura had burst through, effectively attracting the attention of every Drake in the base.

Stopping to catch her breath, the pink-haired Drake doubled over, chest heaving and sweat trickling down her forehead. Her striking green eyes were wide with anxiety as she struggled to breathe.

"Sakura," Tsunade instantly stood from the throne-like chair gracing the center of the church, striding towards the girl with Shizune on her heels. Every Drake in the room grew silent, all eyes trained on Sakura. "What happened?"

"Lady Tsunade," gasped Sakura, straightening up. "Haven…someone's…left a message."

"What?"

Confusion evident on the shot-caller's face, Sakura sucked in a deep steadying breath before continuing, "Someone's been t'Haven 'n they wrote on the walls."

Dark fury immediately stormed across Tsunade's face, the same anger radiating from every gang member in the room at the thought of anyone _daring_ to desecrate Haven's sacred grounds–especially considering all that Haven had been through recently.

With nearly three scores of bristling gang members surrounding her, the Drake's Head Boss dangerously growled, "They did _what_?"

Nodding her head frantically, Sakura added, "The other Bosses're on their way. You should go too."

Tsunade pursed her lips in thought–hesitant to leave her gang, yet at the same time knowing it was her duty to meet up with the other 4 gang leaders to discuss this new defilement of Haven. "Very well, Shizune n' I'll go. Shikaku," she turned to the scarred veteran, "you're in charge. Alert the others; tell them to be ready for anything."

A murmur of acceptance rippled though the crowd of Drakes. Shikaku was well known for his unparalleled intelligence, and well liked throughout the gang for his equally sharp tongue. He took shit from no one; especially considering that person would have to be fucking retarded to screw around with Shikaku in the first place.

His dark eyes met the blonde's in an even gaze, mutual understanding flickering between the two. Tsunade was trusting her beloved gang–her very _family_–to Shikaku, a family she would give her life for without a second thought.

As would any Drake; and Shikaku was no different. Despite the dark bags adorning his sharp eyes and the gaunt, haunted look of grief etched into his face, Shikaku dipped his head. Emotions had no place in the life of a gang member, not when each day could be your last. Distraction was what got people killed.

Tsunade's worried frown lessened just slightly and her eyes shone appreciatively. Her people were in good hands.

* * *

_THE ROGUES ARE ON THE RISE_

Silence gripped Haven as the envoys from each gang wordlessly contemplated the cryptic message still ominously dripping red down the wall in what looked suspiciously like…

_Blood._ Tsunade, having been the last to arrive, curiously sniffed the air, her hunch proving correct when the familiar metallic tang hit her nose. Her gaze hardened; why was so much shit happening now? Blood had never even _touched_ Haven's premises before, but now it had contaminated the place multiple times in less than a month.

There were so many questions with so few answers, and the tension in the room was nearly tangible as ten pairs of eyes–five shot-callers each with one attendant–solemnly examined every inch of the messy blockbuster spanning the entire length of one of Haven's walls.

The outlining was messy and uneven while the words had been clumsily colored in. The graffiti was even smeared in some places, indicating either an amateur or someone in a hurry.

That was puzzling to Tsunade, but she couldn't imagine why whomever had done it would be in a rush. It's not like the gangs posted guards at Haven, so the culprit could have taken hours and wouldn't have been caught. Nothing added up.

As a single stalactite of the scarlet liquid finally touched the ground, Tsunade spoke. "S'fresh."

"No shit, Sherlock," A snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Fine," the blonde snapped, turning her cold, scathing gaze onto the Cloud 9's Head Boss. "Why don't you enlighten the rest of us with whatever further information you _clearly_ know."

A glared, but didn't speak further.

"That's what I thought, dumbass" muttered Tsunade as Terumi and Onoki–the leaders of the Revolvers and Demons respectively–smirked at the common banter between the Drake and Cloud 9. The five head bosses had long since forgone the pointless nicknames that gang members typically addressed one another by. They had known each other for so long it was simply easier to use their true names.

Killer B, A's companion, laughed outright, even when A scowled menacingly at him, "Shut it, B. Remember why we're here."

"Yeah," Terumi agreed, flipping her long brunette hair prettily over one shoulder, "it wouldn't do to forget that it's 'cause of the recent attack that all five of us're here 'n not tryna kill each other. S'not even a universal. Actually, 'm not sure this's ever been heard of before.

"Anyway, obviously _this_"–she gestured in disgust at the clumsy blockbuster defiling the wall–"was left by the same people who were at Haven's Assault."

Sobering up, Onoki nodded in agreement. "Now the question remains of what they mean by it. Perhaps the 'Rogues,' whoever they are, plan t'target our gangs next."

Every gang member grimaced at the thought, fists clenching and expressions hardening at the uninviting thought.

"So what're we gonna do?" asked the young, blue-haired boy who had come with Terumi.

_Chojuro_, Tsunade remembered, idly noting the slight tremor in the Revolver's voice. Eyeing Chojuro's small stature and skinny frame, seemingly devoid of weapons, the Drake pondered for a moment why Terumi would bother to bring along such a runt. He looked like he was about to piss his pants.

"Isn't it obvious?" The young woman who had escorted Onoki spoke up.

A raised one eyebrow skeptically. "What're you talkin' bout, Kurotsuchi?"

"We prepare." Gaara's unexpected raspy utterance commanded instant silence, all eyes fixed on the youngest leader who, before now, had yet to speak at all. Tsunade inclined her head respectfully, encouraging the redhead to continue, but it seemed that was all the Blue Moon felt needed saying.

Instead of elaborating, the teen turned his dark gaze away to once again gaze at the enigmatic words painted on the wall.

A's eye twitched at Gaara's vagueness, clearly annoyed by the younger boy's supercilious air. But in truth, the Blue Moon's Boss was simply not a man of many words.

Just as A opened his mouth to retort, the sound of running feet interrupted him.

Instantly every person in the room whipped out a gun and retreated to the nearest wall, pressing up against it in a poor substitute for cover. Since Haven was literally just an empty warehouse, everyone felt painfully vulnerable despite the ten locked and loaded pistols pointed at the entrance, ready to fire.

_Shit_, Tsunade thought, eyes dancing around the room in search for an escape route should one become necessary.

The footsteps grew louder, accompanied by ragged breathing, and Tsunade tightened her grip on _Etānaru_, its silver barrel glinting dangerously in the half-light filtering in from the dust-caked windows before the Drake shifted so the shining wouldn't give away her position.

From the obvious lack of stealth, the blond figured whoever was approaching couldn't possibly be a gang member. One of the first lessons TRG's were taught was how to ghost through any gangs' territory without being caught. The Drakes back home could probably hear the person now running full pelt towards the doors of Haven.

Suddenly the doors burst open, revealing a flash of brown and a glimmer of steel, before Baki yelled out, "Deshi!" and half a dozen gun shots rang out

At the same moment, a loud thump echoed throughout the room, nearly drowned out by the simultaneous bangs of pistols, and Gaara–who had thrown himself at the young girl to knock her out of harm's way–was glaring disdainfully at the other gangsters from the floor, plainly pissed that they had almost killed someone in his gang.

His favorite non-family member, at that, not that Gaara would ever admit to playing favorites.

"F-Fuminshō," wheezed Matsuri, known to the others as _Deshi_, as Gaara rolled off the younger Blue Moon and carefully examined her for injuries, eyes narrowed.

A slight blush dusted the brunette's cheeks as she sat up and stammered under the redhead's vigilant scrutiny, "Th-there's been–"

"An attack," Gaara finished for her, reaching out a hand to inspect the dark blood stains decorating Matsuri's shoulder.

Instinctively the girl flinched back before letting out a mortified gasp at her clear disobedience, "I-I'm sorry, Fuminshō…"

Gaara said nothing, but when he extended his arm again, there was a decidedly more gentle look in his eyes as he brushed his fingertips against the damp fabric of her blood-soaked shirt. The redhead also took note of the scarlet streaks littering the ground where Matsuri had fallen, fists tightening.

"Baki, we're leaving now." Without another word, Gaara rose and walked briskly out of Haven, allowing himself to break into a frantic run only after he was out of eyesight of the other gang leaders.

_No. No, no, no…_

Baki, in spite of being a horny bastard, was one of the best and most loyal advisors Gaara had. Because he was one of the oldest members the Blue Moons had, he had seen much; and in this great time of need the redhead had taken him to Haven with him, leaving Temari back at the base to hold down the fort. Nodding curtly to the others, Baki turned and strode out of the warehouse, fear for his gang calling him back home.

Little did he know his gang was already broken and grieving, howling their lament to the empty skies as half their numbers lay dead and unmoving on the ground. Pools of blood soaked the ground of the Blue Moons' base, permanently marking the very first place the Rogues had struck.

* * *

"Fuck you!" the 17 year-old snarled, ripping off the flimsy piece of white plastic covering his face–and attempting to hide his crime–from the world and hurling the mask against the wall where it ricocheted off with a resounding crack.

"Careful, you only get one of those 'n m'pretty sure y'don't wanna go on the next one without it," Neji commented dryly, slipping off his own mask and pulling back his dark hood. Running a hand through silky strands, the ex-Drake watched with a face of indifference as Kankuro cursed and stooped to scoop up the abused face covering.

"Shit," the Blue Moon muttered, gingerly cradling the mask and running a gentle finger along the fracture running across the right cheek like a scar. The faceless mask stared blankly back at him, its white lamination splattered with red.

Neji said nothing in response, simply advancing and locking the other boy's metal restraints into place before turning and exiting Kankuro's prison cell. As the heavy metal doors slowly screeched shut and let out a loud scraping sound to assure him it had locked, the Blue Moon let out an exhausted sigh as what the had just done finally washed over him.

Slumping with his back pressed against the rough brick wall, the brunette draped his elbows over his pulled up knees and hung his head. Mask held limply in one hand, Kankuro closed his eyes and focused on his heavy breathing–trying to forget, trying to pretend like he hadn't just attacked his own gang, that it wasn't Blue Moon blood that stained his hands…

_Kankuro's eyes snapped open as the familiar shriek of metal announced the arrival of a visitor. Groggily rubbing his eyes with one hand and propping himself up into a sitting position with the other, the 17 year-old was hardly aware of the clink of his chains._

_Squinting his eyes against the harsh light filtering into his windowless room, Kankuro raised one eyebrow inquiringly as Hyuuga Neji entered. "Why the fuck're you always th'one comin' t'see me?" Kankuro mumbled, still half-asleep as he shielded his eyes with his hand. _

_"N' here I was thinkin' we were turnin' into friends," Neji smirked, crossing his arms and leaning against the cell wall across from Kankuro. _

_"In your fuckin' dreams," snorted Kankuro, grinning a bit at the common banter and standing as well. Stretching and scratching the back of his neck, the Blue Moon glanced at Neji again. "Seriously, though, what're ya doin' here?" _

_Neji's relaxed smile vanished, replaced by the expressionless mask he wore around everyone else. With Kankuro, the Hyuuga just figured he could do whatever the hell he wanted because who was Kankuro going to tell? No one would ever know of the person Neji was around Kankuro–the easy-going, laid-back guy who cracked a joke every once in a while and actually laughed at Kankuro's lame one-liners. _

_It was like Neji's escape from the real world. And Kankuro acknowledged and respected that; besides, for the past week or two Neji had been chill as fuck when it was just the two of them. _

_Once Kankuro saw Neji's face harden like that, he knew shit was about to go down. The Blue Moon felt his own smile begin to fade. _

_"You're comin' on an assault with us," replied the Hyuuga. His voice and eyes gave nothing away. _

_"Where?" asked Kankuro cautiously, wary of the answer. _

_"The Blue Moons' base." _

_"The hell?" _

_The look of sheer incredulity on Kankuro's face made Neji want to wince. Instead, he kept his apathetic veneer in check as he said, "_Now_."_

_"Oh fuck no," Kankuro growled, eyes flaring defiantly. "Y'really think you I'm gonna betray my own gang like that?"_

_Neji just sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his temple with one hand. He'd known it was going to come down to this; Kankuro never made anything easy. "With the right…_persuasion_, yes, I think y'will."_

_Dark eyes narrowed dangerously as Kankuro hissed, "What're you talkin' about?"_

_Opening his own eyes, Neji cooly said, "Does the name 'Inuzuka, Kiba' sound familiar"_

_"Maybe…" Kankuro said slowly, face not giving anything away. But Neji caught the brief flash of fear in the inky depths of his eyes. _

_"If y'don't do this, he. Will. Die." _

_Kankuro's breath caught in his throat, just for a moment. In that heartbeat, the Blue Moon hardened his expression and sneered, "Fine. Just 'cause I said I knew the kid don't mean I care 'bout him. Go ahead, kill him. See if I care, it'll only be helping my gang. He's a Drake, yeah?" _

_Neji raised his eyebrows, rather surprised by this unexpected answer. _Seems like Kazuo doesn't know this guy half as well as he thinks he does,_ the ex-Drake thought to himself. __"We have spies posted in every clan that could kill him in an instant," Neji informed, eyes searching Kankuro's face for any signs of deceit._

_"Very well, we will," Neji said. "However, we still need you on this raid, so maybe this'll change your mind. Temari n' Gaara're next."_

_Kankuro grit his teeth, suddenly not so sure the brunette was bluffing, but held his ground. "No." _

_Neji sighed. "I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this. I really _do_ like you, you know." Without another word, the Hyuuga left. _

Fuck_, thought Kankuro, dread pooling in his gut._

* * *

_Walking down the corridor that led to Kankuro's cell, Neji chewed his lip in indecision–affection for the Blue Moon battling with the urge to follow orders to get what he wanted. Slipping the cellphone from his back pocket, the Hyuuga stopped to stare at it for a moment. Then he thought, _Fuck it_, and dialed the number._

_"'Sup?"_

_Neji paused one more time, steeling himself to say it. "Take the Inuzuka off the hit list."_

_"What? But I thought–"_

_"Kazuo's orders," growled the ex-Drake before ending the call. Continuing to walk, Neji smiled bitterly to himself. _I'm so fucking screwed.

* * *

_"Hamasaki, take Squad One and cover the flank! Mori, Squad Four and Seven are at the front, take Nine and back them up! Ueno, have yours float around to fill any holes we may have left open!" Temari ordered above the din of gunshots and shouting. The echo from the warehouse really didn't help either. _

_"Matsumoto, go–shit!" Throwing herself to the ground, Temari snarled in frustration and easily took out the man who had shot at her. _

_It had been less than ten minutes since the mysterious group–each member wearing dark jeans, a black cloack, and a white mask–had attacked, yet chaos continued to reign. Temari had never before seen her clan in such confusion and disarray, their defensive lines having been easily penetrated._

Almost as if they _knew_ our strategy,_ thought the blond as she pressed her back against the stone pillar acting as her cover. Peering around the corner, Temari let out a sudden gasp of pain as fire erupted in her right shoulder. As her gun clattered to the floor and she gripped her injury in an attempt to staunch the profuse bleeding, Temari glanced up to see a masked figure approaching her, smoking gun in hand._

_She bared her teeth and hissed threateningly as she shrank against the pillar at her back, mind racing. The person continued to wordlessly approach, only fueling Temari's fear…and anger._

_Who the fuck did they think they were messing with? Once the masked figure was in arm's length distance, the Blue Moon let out a snarl and lunged forward, her good arm lashing out._

_Caught by surprise, the masked figure stumbled back as the plastic face covering flew off and skittered across the ground._

_"Fujimoto?" Temari gaped in surprise. "We…we thought you had died." _

_The ex-Blue Moon chuckled darkly, kneeling before her as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, "Naive as always, Temari. I never could stand that about you." The hand gripping the pistol tightened._

_"What the fuck're you doing?" the blond demanded, suddenly remembering the man before her was taking part in an attack against her gang._

_Leaning forward slowly, Fujimoto's lips ghosted across her ear as he breathed, "Gettin' my revenge." Temari barely had time to widen her eyes in shock before the ex-Blue Moon slammed the butt of his gun into her temple, effectively knocking her out. _

_As the blond slumped over, Fujimoto easily hoisted her over one shoulder and walked over to pick up his mask. Raising his voice above the gunshots and shouting, he called, "It's done! Rogues, move out." _

_Instantly the masked figures littering the room–and now far outnumbering the remaining Blue Moons–began to retreat. With a few final shots, the Rogues turned and disappeared, vanishing just as quickly as they had appeared. _

_The silence left in their wake was deafening. _

* * *

**Feedback please? Also, I'm not even sure if this chapter makes sense because I didn't really proofread it, so tell me if I screwed up somewhere. Thanks! **


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